The Secret Life of Robbie Lewis
by klswhite
Summary: What if Robbie had a secret life which was the real reason he had a hard time moving on? I don't own them, don't make any money from them, just amuse myself and piss off a few fans from time to time.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

The door to his new flat pushed open easily, there was a slight squeak to the hinges. He made a mental note to tend to those. His arms were full so he kicked the door closed, the squeak annoying him or perhaps it was the mind-numbing fatigue.

Dropping his purchases onto the kitchen table he quickly put them away. His mind wandered to the events of the day. He'd hoped today would be a peaceful return to Oxford. Instead, it seemed, all he had learned was time had passed him by.

There was a new Chief Super. She wasn't fond of him, wanted to put him out to pasture. It wasn't for him, he needed to be in the field, needed to be active. Well at least he had one last case before he was forced away.

The only familiar face in his entire day had been Laura Hobson. She'd moved up the ranks, seemed to be doing well for herself. It was doubtful anyone was going to be putting her out to grass anytime soon.

Fatigue pulled at him, the stress of returning had kept sleep at bay. He'd told the lovely doctor, Kate, he'd been awake for 28 hours. That number was probably off by half. He rubbed his eyes. Perhaps he should take the pill Kate had given him.

He pulled the blister pack from his pocket. Rolling it between his fingers, he was just about to get up to get a drink.

"You don't need that pill."

He turned, a small gasp, then a smile. "I wondered when I would see you."

"I've been here all along."

Slumping into the chair, "I haven't seen you in a long time."

"You haven't needed me."

His head dropped onto the table, "I always need you."

He could almost feel her hand gently stroking his hair, "No, you don't. But you do now."

A gentle smile curved his lips as his eyes closed, "Will you stay?"

"For as long as you need me."

Just before he fell asleep he whispered, "I love you, Val."

* * *

The knocking at his door woke him. He sat up, startled awake. Desperately he looked around the room but she wasn't there. It had all been a dream, a hallucination. Scrubbing his hand over his face, he walked to the door, opened it.

The lanky sergeant was standing there, a look of disapproval etched across his face. "We have another body. You didn't answer your phone."

Motioning with his head, "I need ten minutes to shower. Make me a cup of coffee."

"The Chief Super will be waiting."

"I haven't showered in almost 40 hours Trust me, she will appreciate me more when I'm clean."

He walked away, leaving Hathaway standing in the doorway. In the bathroom, he started the water, stripping his clothes while he waited for the water to heat.

"The time away was good to you. I like the tan."

He dropped the clothes, turning to see her perched, impossibly, on the window sill. "I thought you were a dream."

"Perhaps you're still asleep or hallucinating."

Robbie pinched himself, "Damn."

"Did that hurt?" At his querulous look, she smiled, "Last night you seemed happy enough to see me."

"I thought you were a dream."

"You really should shower. I don't have a sense of smell but if you really haven't showered in almost 40 hours, I can imagine."

"How are you here?"

She shrugged, "I told you last night. I'm here because you need me."

"To drive me crazy?"

"Who says you aren't already crazy? I mean you are talking to a dead woman."

"Sir, you really should hurry. The Chief Super won't be pleased."

"You really should heed the dishy sergeant's advice. I'll be here when you get home."

Before he could respond, she was gone. He stepped under the hot water, hoping it wash away the remnants of the dream or hallucination or whatever it was.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

He'd told her to call, said he would like it. Now he was stood, in a crowded restaurant, waiting. She'd called two days after the case ended, full of enthusiasm, he hadn't been able to say no.

He'd come early, not really familiar with where she'd suggested. It wasn't a place he would have picked but he supposed he could see the appeal. Taking on a sip from his drink, he looked around, just in case she was here and he'd missed her.

A soft touch to his shoulder startled him, he almost spilled his drink. She was dressed elegantly, a dress which hugged her body, tried to give the impression of curves. He found himself drawn down, a moist set of lips pressed against his cheek.

Her hand curled around his arm, squeezing it. "Sorry I'm late."

He nodded, "It's OK. Can I get you a drink while we wait?"

"I'd like that, red wine."

He turned away, cut a path to the bar. Motioning to the bartender, he placed the order, staring into the mirror behind the bar as he waited. Tilting his head, he grimaced at the smear of lipstick on his cheek. He removed the handkerchief from his pocket and used it to wipe away the mark.

The bartender returned, placed the glass in front of him. Robbie paid the man, picked up the glass and returned to his date. The idea of the word made him shake his head. Should a man his age, really be on a date?

* * *

The door squeaked open, the random thought to fix the squeak pulsed through his head. Maybe it wasn't the squeak, maybe it was just the headache from the noisy restaurant.

The date probably hadn't been all that bad. It wasn't that Kate wasn't lovely. Another time, another place, perhaps he might have been interested. He shook his head, no, he wouldn't have been. She'd kissed him goodbye at the end of the night and there hadn't been anything.

It wasn't as if he had loads of experience with women, there were only a few. But with each of them, the first kiss had been a memorable moment. A shock of electricity firing throughout his body. When Kate had kissed him, there had been no spark, not even a latent tingle. Perhaps that time of his life was in the past. Maybe it was too much to expect that jolt.

"Or maybe she was just the wrong person?"

He didn't even turn, "Or maybe, I've already had the best." Looking over his shoulder, he smiled softly when he saw her lounging across his sofa. "Has that occurred to you?"

"I am good, but there is one serious drawback." Meeting his questioning gaze, "I'm dead."

"I wish you weren't."

"If wishes were fishes…"

"The sea would be full." He laughed, dropping onto the sofa next to her. "How many times did you say that to the kids over the years?"

"More times than I can count."

He sighed, "I miss you, Val. More than I thought."

"It's coming back. Lots of reminders."

"Do you think I should have stayed away?"

She shook her head, "No, it was time to come back. Time to put it all to rest."

He slumped back into the sofa, "I don't know if I can. I'm not sure I'm strong enough."

"You're braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think."

"Is that something else you used to tell the kids?"

She laughed, "It's from Winnie the Pooh."

He reached for her, stopping himself before he touched her. He didn't want to ruin the illusion. "You didn't have to tell me. I would have thought you very smart."

"You would have figured it out eventually, trust me."

He sighed, closing his eyes. "What do I do?"

"Sleep, you need the rest."

He opened his eyes, meeting her gentle gaze. "I'm afraid if I do you will disappear."

"Don't worry, my love. I'll still be here when you wake. I told you I would stay as long as you need me."

"I'm going to need you forever."

She shook her head, reached for him. He curled into her touch, imagined he could feel the heat from her hand. "No, one day you won't."

Closing his eyes, "You say that as if you know the future."

Leaning closer to him, she whispered, "Well I am very smart."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

She was perched on the dresser watching him adjust the clip on tie. An amused expression lighting her face, "You really should have opted to tie your own."

Pulling at the tie, he grumbled, "If you'll recall you always tied these. I never learned."

A fleeting look of sadness rippled across her features, "Then a clip on will have to do. A little to the left." He made the adjustment, staring fixedly into the mirror. "I've always liked you in formal attire."

"And all of these years I thought you loved my working class demeanor."

"Oh, I do. But as a change of pace this is delicious."

He scoffed, "Delicious."

Leaning into him, she lowered her voice to a husky voice. "Did you never notice your formal wear always ended up in a pile on the floor at the end of a night?"

"Fat chance of that happening tonight."

"The Chief Super not to your liking?"

"It's bad enough I have to go to this thing, there's no need to torture me."

She cocked her head toward the other room, "Not so loud, the dishy sergeant will wonder who you're talking to."

"Dishy? Really?"

"Oh yes, I bet he looks really good in formal wear." Her laughter followed behind him as he started talking to James. "And out of it."

* * *

She wasn't waiting for him when he got home. The evening hadn't been a complete bust. He was fairly certain he'd rattled Linn, too bad he hadn't been able to keep up with him. At least it had gotten him out of the evening early.

He was changed and making a cup of tea when he heard her, "I missed the show."

"It was boring, chamber music or some such."

"I know, I rather like Schubert. Much better than Wagner. The show I meant was you undressing."

"Not sure my undressing is a show. Wait, you were there?"

She rolled her eyes, "Well you didn't think I just sit around here waiting on you to come home. I spent our entire marriage doing that. At least then I had the kids to keep me busy."

"Val…"

"I'm not complaining, Robbie. I loved our life, but it would have been nice to have had you in it more often. To actually have had another half."

"You heard the Chief Super? I'm not looking for another half, Val. Not now, perhaps never."

"I hope that's not out of some misplaced sense of loyalty. Because I want you to be happy."

Walking away, he switched off the lights, ending the conversation. "Who says I'm not happy?"

Standing in the dark, she didn't follow him. Merely whispered, "I do."

* * *

He pulled on his tie as he walked through the door of his flat. The squeaking hinges made the pain behind his eyes increase. As soon as he changed, he would get rid of that noise.

"Don't."

He shook his head, not in the mood to see her, hear her. "Don't what, Val?"

"Don't fix the squeak."

"It annoys me."

She shrugged, "I like it. It lets me know you are safe."

"The flat's not that big, you'd hear the door opening."

"Do you remember our first flat?"

He shook his head, "Not really. I'm sure it was awful."

She laughed, "Oh, it was. The plumbing made awful noises, the hot water didn't work half the time and you worked horrible hours, deep into the night."

"What's the point, Val?"

"The door to the flat squeaked. It always woke me when you came home in the middle of the night. I begged you to fix it. You told me no because it was our warning against intruders." He laughed, scrubbing his hand across his face. "I grew to love that squeak because it meant you were home, were safe."

"Val?"

"Don't fix it, Robbie. For me?"

Knowing he'd lost the fight, he nodded. "The squeak stays."

"You look beat."

"Case hit too close to home."

"Don't let her anger poison who you are, Robbie."

"I'm angry, Val. I understand her thinking. The person who killed you stole our life."

She shook her head, "No, Robbie. He ended my life but you're still here. Don't let him end both of our lives."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

She read the paper over his shoulder, "Someone you know?"

"Only because the Chief Super says I must."

"What?"

"I'm protecting him until 4 this afternoon."

"From what?"

"Bodily harm."

Looking down at his mushy bowl of cereal, "You need someone to protect you from that pitiful breakfast."

"What should I have instead?"

"A hot breakfast, would only take a few minutes longer and it would keep you from snacking later in the day."

Looking up at her, "Has it occurred to you I'm watching my girlish figure by eating this?"

Leaning against the table, almost touching him, she shook her head. "Nice try, it's quick and it's easy and requires you washing fewer dishes."

"Guilty as charged, I throw myself on the mercy of the court."

"I could teach you how to cook. It wouldn't be hard, might even be fun."

His buzzing phone distracted him, "Hold that thought, pet."

He listened to the caller, asked a few questions then started gathering his things. Leaving his dishes on the table he smiled at her, "No chance you could clean that up, pet?"

"Not part of the job description I'm afraid."

* * *

He opened the door to his office, mind full of unanswered questions from the investigation. The widow was supposed to be waiting. She might be able to answer some of the questions but you never knew what grief would do to people.

Looking up as he stepped into the room his heart stopped for a second. She hadn't aged a day. A bit more elegant than when he'd last seen her but still heart stoppingly beautiful.

A smiled creased her face as she turned to face him fully, "Well I never."

James looked back and forth between the two, "What?"

"A long time ago, Sergeant, when the world was very, very young, Mrs. Turnbull and I went to school together."

"Aye, not only that." She smiled at James then nodded back at Robbie, "He was my first boyfriend."

James looked back at Robbie in surprise. There was a smile on Robbie's face James had never seen before.

"It's good to see you Diane."

"And you."

"Sergeant, can we have a moment?"

James nodded, "I'll be just outside."

They waited until James had left the room, closing the door behind him. "I'd ask how you are but…"

"I know." She paused, looking down at her hands. "I don't suppose you can tell me any more than the Sergeant did can you?"

He shook his head, "No, but I would like to ask you to be at the press conference. We're going to make an appeal for witnesses. Helps to have a family member there."

She nodded, "Of course."

Stepping closer, "I'll be right beside you, the whole time."

"Thank you, Robbie."

* * *

The press conference had gone well. Diane had held up admirably. Robbie couldn't help but admire her composure. She was older but he could still see traces of the young girl he'd once known.

He walked back to where she was standing with the Chief Super, "Sorry about that." Looking at Diane, "What are the plans now?"

"What a question?"

He shook his head, "Oh, I'm sorry."

She exhaled, "It's alright. Well, I was planning to overnight here with Nicky for a spot of R and R, you know, but… Would it help if I stayed around? 'Assist with the inquiries,' is that the phrase?"

Looking at Innocent, Robbie nodded, "Well, it would, if you feel you're up to it."

She nodded, "Yeah. Let's talk, eh?" She smiled over at Innocent, "It's supposed to help, isn't it? The talking cure, that's what Sigmund Freud said." Looking away, "I'm-I'm suddenly hungry. Is that awful?"

Innocent interceded, "It's a normal symptom of shock."

"We'll find somewhere quiet, to feed you, have a talk." Holding up his mobile, "Just give us five minutes to make a phone call."

"Aye."

* * *

He knocked on Innocent's door, pushing it open when she said enter. "Ma'am, I have something to run past you."

Arching an eyebrow, "I sense I'm not going to like this something?"

"I'd like to move Diane Turnbull to my flat for the duration of her stay."

"You're suggesting Mrs. Turnbull should stay at your house tonight?" She shook her head, "Why?"

"She's in a state of shock. She hates that hotel. There's been one murder on the premises and her husband was killed on the doorstep. She doesn't want to go home alone, and…"

"And you two were at school together."

He nodded, ignoring her sarcastic tone. "Therefore she trusts me."

"She might be a key witness. Or even, at this stage, a possible suspect."

He scoffed, "I don't see her as an assassin."

"I'm thinking like a lawyer, in court, looking to discredit the police."

"And I'm thinking like an old friend who always behaves strictly by the book."

Innocent exhaled noisily, closing her eyes. "All right. But with backup."

* * *

She watched them from the corner of the room. Anger brewed in her eyes. Robbie hadn't looked at her once since the woman had entered the flat. They were chatting, reminiscing, listening to music.

The woman looked at Robbie, a doe eyed expression, "What happens next?"

"Well, you go to bed for a good night's sleep, and I'll be in here with a good book."

"It's not bad."

"Dr. Patterson at the prison told me that you helped him write it. She said Nicky was, quote, 'functionally illiterate'."

Leaning forward, Diane set her cup on the table. "That's the jargon. Just means he couldn't spell. But he told a good story. That's what people buy, good stories. I just helped him with the long words."

Val spluttered from the other side of the room, "Right, that's what she helped him with."

Standing, Diane picked up their cups. "I'll be off." Walking to the kitchen, passing right by Val, "Thanks for looking after me."

"Just doing my job ma'am."

Val rolled her eyes, "Your job, is that what you call it."

Diane nodded at his CD collection, "No Barry Manilow, then?"

Robbie shook his head, "Nah, I never liked him much. Mind, when I was 18, I thought you would."

Laughing, "Oh, we never know anything, do we?" Smiling up at him, "Did you have a good marriage?"

Val took a step closer to Robbie, "Well?"

Diane saw the concerned look on his face, mistook it for worry about her question. "Oh it's just I couldn't help noticing the photographs."

He looked back at the photo, then nodded. "Yeah, very good." He smiled, tried not to look at Val, "The best."

"I'm glad about that. Yeah, so did I. I mean, people wouldn't believe me, but…I did." She laughed, "It was living dangerously, but…yeah, it was very good indeed."

"Ah, well, see, that's the difference. I believe in living safely." He stepped closer to Diane, coming to stand directly next to Val. "I daresay that's why I'm a cop. I want to look after the people that believe in living safely."

Diane paused, recognizing how different they were now. "Do police regulations permit you to give me a good night hug?"

Val spluttered, "No, they don't."

"You might have to sign for it."

They stepped closer together, embracing. Robbie closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of someone else in his arms.

"Don't do this, Robbie."

Diane broke the hug first, "You're a good man." She pushed back, kissing his cheek.

"I daresay."

He watched her walk away, a moment of longing coursing through him.

"Robbie."

Closing his eyes, "Val? Don't, she's an old friend."

"She's an old friend who's using you."

"No, she isn't."

"Yes, she is."

"You're the one he keeps telling me I need to move on. Why not with her?"

"Because her husband's body isn't even cold."

"It's not like that Val."

She turned away, "How are such a good detective and still so naïve?"

The buzzer sound, "And how are you dead and jealous?"

Robbie turned to the door, opening he smiled at James' rejoinder. "Don't worry, I'm not an assassin."

"I detected that. Come in."

They talked about the case. As James revealed the Turnbull's divorce, Val cried out. "I told you so. I knew something was off about her."

Robbie ignored her as James continued to talk. "You can ignore me all you want, Robbie Lewis. But you know I'm right. There's something off about her and she's preying on your latent feelings about her. Even your brilliant Sergeant sees it. He's quite good."

James looked around the flat, "So, what's the plan tonight?"

Nodding toward the sofa, "You'll sleep here, bring the widow to the station in the morning."

"And where are you going to sleep?"

Grabbing his jacket, "I've got a conversation I need to have. Then I'll kip at her hotel."

Val's laughter filled the room, "You had no intention of sleeping here."

"There's extra pillows and blankets in the hall closet. I'll see you in the morning."

Robbie was gone, leaving Val staring after him. Smiling up at James, although he couldn't see her. "Even after all of these years he can still surprise me."

* * *

He let himself into the flat, smiling when the door creaked. He dropped his bag inside the bedroom door. Val was sitting on the counter, waiting for him.

"I'm sorry."

"For what, exactly?"

"Acting like a jealous schoolgirl."

"Good to know you still care."

"Nothing could change that, Robbie. Not even death."

"That's how I feel too."

She smiled, "I know but you can't let it keep you from living."

He rolled his eyes, "No, my jealous dead wife does that."

"Oh, funny. I wasn't jealous, I was angry because of who it was."

He took a step closer to her, "I didn't love her. Not now, not then."

She smiled slightly, "I know."

"But it is funny that you've been encouraging me to move on and the first time I show any interest you go slightly nutty."

"There was one thing she said which was honest."

"What's that?"

"Dr. Hobson does fancy you?"

"You know, Val, I think you're getting senile in your death."

"I might be senile but at least I know where the sugar dish is."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"You're grumpy."

He looked up from his book, "I'm reading, Val. It's almost impossible to be grumpy whilst reading."

"I don't mean at this moment, just in general. You're short with James, you haven't called the kids."

"It's James now, is it? What happened to the 'dishy' sergeant?"

She laughed, "Oh, he's still dishy but I've decided I like him. So he's been upgraded to James." Pausing, "And I don't like seeing you treat him like Morse treated you."

"Ouch."

"He's loyal to you, as much, if not more, than you were to Morse. I respect loyalty and I respect James."

"And you think I haven't been treating him right?"

She nodded, "I do."

"You do know part of my job is to train him so one day he can replace me."

"Yes, my love, I remember all of the many times you told me just that as you were having a whinge about Morse."

He slammed the book shut, "I don't whinge."

"My mistake, while you rationally discussed how you'd been improperly treated by Detective Inspector Morse."

"What am I supposed to do? Give him a hug, buy him an ice lolly and tell him what a good job he's doing?"

Rolling her eyes, she stood. "If you're going to act like a petulant four-year old, I'll leave you to it."

"Where do you go when you're not here?"

"Hither and yon, today I think I'll check on our children." Turning to give him a pointed look, "Something you haven't done in quite some time."

Before he could respond, she was gone. He shook his head. There was more truth than fiction to her statement. He was grumpy. There was a persistent anger always on simmer in the back of his mind. He didn't know why.

It seemed to have replaced his grief. But it was always there, ready to rear its ugly head. And Hathaway all too frequently bore the brunt of it. It was the reason he hadn't called the kids. Too scared his temper would break through and he would say something he shouldn't.

Picking up the phone, he dialed his daughter's number. She answered on the second ring. "Hello, pet. It's your dad." A brilliant smile lit his face at her eager greeting. For the first time in months, he felt a sense of peace.

* * *

Wine with the Mallory's neighbor had been an unexpected pleasure. It had been a long time since he'd been attracted to a woman. There was something different about her. She was nice but there was the tiniest bit of spice about her, a touch of mischief. Perhaps after the case was over he could explore that touch.

He heard James' steps before he heard his voice. "Thought you might like this, sir."

He accepted the offered cup of coffee, "What was so urgent?"

James paused, took a deep breath. "I've just received a rather bracing lecture from our superintendent."

"I'm sure you're a better person for it."

"I'm not to discuss it with you."

Robbie looked over at James, Val's words echoing in his mind. He shouldn't ask the lad to betray Innocent outright but he sensed something, "Quite right. What'd she say?"

"In short, you've been told you're not to commit overburdened resources…that's me…to the investigation of this case. And that it's not a case, it's a statistic." James shook his head, anger bubbling up. "I'm sorry, but she made me bloody mad, and I didn't stick up for you, and I just feel ashamed."

He felt bad for the lad, serving two masters. Perhaps he could let him off the hook. "She's got a point."

James shook his head, "No, she doesn't."

"Yeah…"

"She doesn't. We've received information from a legitimate source."

Groaning, "Oh, Le Plassiter hasn't given us damn all."

"Yeah, but he will. I've found Stoker. He's in Oxford."

"Look, we've both been warned off this case. Now I'm old and bloody-minded enough to not do as what I'm told, but you're clever…you should know better."

James nodded, "I do, and I've decided the best course of action is to continue investigating the case with you, unofficially, against the rules."

Robbie couldn't help but smile at James' words. Val was right, James was loyal, probably more loyal than he'd been to Morse. And all of those years with Morse he'd wanted just once to be included not used as a whipping boy.

Handing the cup back to James, "Well, if that's the case, get your finger out. Fix me up a whole rogues' gallery of all the faces in the case, but put it somewhere where Innocent's not going to see it if she pokes her head in to have a moan." He turned to leave then turned back to James, "And I didn't say that, so you can't quote me. I'm off to see the granny."

James smiled shaking his head as he watched Robbie walk away. A flush of pride swelled within him. It was the first time he'd felt included in one of Robbie's schemes. Somehow he almost felt as if he'd been treated as an equal.

* * *

He rushed to make it to the restaurant, already almost unforgivably late. Certainly not the impression he'd wanted to make. As she turned to him, he shook his head, "I'm so sorry, I forgot."

A sad smile as she shook her head, "OK. Am I refreshed by your honesty or just pissed off?"

"Both, I should think." He motioned with his head toward the chair across from her. When she didn't object, he sat. The waiter appeared with a wine list. He looked at it briefly pointing to one of the more expensive selections.

As the waiter walked away, "Is it expensive?"

"Alternatively, I could buy you a small car." They stared at one another, he tried to bridge the gap. "So?"

"So…"

Shrugging sheepishly, "It's my way of distracting you. Trying to open the conversation." He paused, then tried again, "So…"

Smiling, she reached for his hand. "Is that the small talk done?"

He laughed, knowing he was forgiven. He turned his hand squeezing hers lightly. "God, I hope so.

"Can we cut straight to the reason you came to see me earlier?"

He pulled his hand back, "Yes, I came to tell you…" He shook his head, "This is going to change the whole character of the evening a bit – or a lot – not necessarily for the better." He paused for a moment, "Rachel Mallory was murdered."

Stephanie gasped, her hand coming up to cover her face. "Are you alright, Stephanie?" He poured water into one the many empty glasses. "Sorry but there's no doubt."

Meeting his eye, "And I thought this date got off to a rocky start."

"I could not have told but that would have been dishonest, sitting here, talking to you and thinking about that."

She nodded, tightly, "Yes, I appreciate that. Would mind very much if I went home now?"

Robbie nodded his understanding, stood to help her from her chair. He waited patiently as she wrapped herself then led her from the restaurant. They walked in silence, side by side. Robbie wasn't quite sure what to say.

"I had a lovely evening for the first 20 seconds." He smiled appreciatively at her humor despite the circumstances. Turning to him, "Listen Malcolm has this appalling idea that he'd like to give a drinks party to cheer up Hugh. I think it's a crazy idea, especially now."

Nodding toward her, "Will you go?"

Smiling, "If you take me."

"Who else is going?"

Raising her eyebrows, she teased him, "Is that what you normally ask a girl when she invites you out?"

"Stephanie, it's a murder inquiry. The flashing blue light makes quite a difference for me to go to something like…where the guests might be suspects.

"Who cares about you? I'm fed up going places on my own."

Silence fell as they stared at one another. Robbie grinned slightly. He really did want to see her again.

"Will you come with me? I'll take that feeble grin as a yes."

Before he knows what is happening, she is kissing him. It's surprising, not just in the action but in the fact there is a momentary spark of something. Before he can think to respond, she pulls away, leaving him slightly bewildered. As she drives away, he suddenly thinks a drinks party might not be so bad.

* * *

The door creaked open and his first thought was whether or not she would be there. She hadn't been there the night before or this morning, now who was acting like a petulant four-year old. Closing the door, he dropped his keys and wallet into the bowl on the table.

"All I can say is I'm really glad I died before you decided to have a mid-life crisis."

He looked over, she was standing in the doorway of the bedroom. For the first time, she wasn't in normal clothes, she was wearing a dressing gown, not quite tied. He could see something silky beneath it. If he didn't know better, he would think he'd woken her.

"A what?"

"Really Robbie, she's almost young enough to be your daughter. And don't get me started on that son of hers. There's something off about that kid."

"You know Val; it's going to be hard for me to find someone if you get jealous every time I take a second glance at someone."

Motioning to her own lip, she tapped it pointedly while staring at his. "You find someone who's age appropriate, and not looking for someone to take care of her and you will find I'm not jealous at all."

Pulling his handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped at his lip. Annoyed at the lipstick mark he found, "So you admit your jealous?"

"Of that mewling child, hardly. Embarrassed at your interest, more like. How exactly did you plan on introducing her to our children?"

"Oddly enough, I hadn't worked that out just yet. Thought I'd wait until the second date. And, I need to mention your radar for appropriate women just might be broken."

Raising her eyebrow, she tightened the sash of her dressing gown, "Really?"

He nodded smugly, as he loosened his tie, "Yeah, you said Dr. Hobson fancies me. You're wrong, it's James she fancies, not me."

Val laughed, filling the small flat. She held her sides as the sensation engulfed her. Finally, wiping tears from her eyes, "And what, pray tell, makes you say that?"

"I asked her?"

"You did what?"

"She found some important evidence, something others would have likely missed. I told her she brings me these things because she secretly loves me. She said no, it's because she secretly loves James."

Rolling her eyes, she turned into the bedroom. Dropping onto the bed, "I won't even dignify that with a response." She watched him as he undressed, "You did good with James, including him in the investigation behind the Chief Super's back."

He hung his jacket in the wardrobe, "You were right."

"Excuse me, what was that?"

Turning back to her, he unbuttoned his shirt. "You heard me, no need to rub it in." Pointing at her, "Is that the reason for the change of wardrobe? A reward for being nice to James?"

"Would you have preferred an ice lolly and a good job?" At his stare, she smiled, "I thought it might remind you what it was to come home to someone who cares for you and isn't looking for you to be her protector."

He sat on the bed next to her, "I like to think I protected you on occasion."

She looked over at him, "You did and I protected you just as fiercely. But it wasn't the basis of our relationship. Nor should it be the basis of any future relationships."

"She's just going through a rough patch."

"No, Robbie, she's a professional victim and she's set her sights on you. Be careful there, love."

* * *

He'd taken James home. True to his word, he'd gotten well and truly drunk. It had been odd to see the younger man so unguarded. He smiled to himself, Val had been right, she always was it seemed.

"It seems you're a bit worse for wear."

He rubbed at his eye, "Yeah, probably should get it looked at."

"I bet the good doctor would take a look at it. Probably some other bits too."

"You know she's quite a bit younger than me too, don't you?"

Val shrugged, "She's an old soul." As he rolled his eyes, she moved closer. "How old do you think she is?"

He shrugged out of his jacket, "I don't know, mid-30s maybe. Maybe a little older."

"I bet you're wrong."

"Exactly what do you have to bet?"

"If I'm right, you have to ask her out."

"That's not fair, you probably have some special knowledge."

"I promise. I have no special knowledge. But I know how to judge women's ages. Men never get it right because they don't want to insult women. Especially if they like those women."

"And how am I supposed to find out?"

"You're a detective, detect."

"And how will you know I'm being honest?"

"One, you're a terrible liar. Two, you forget I can see everything you do when I choose to."

"You're on. But what do I get when I win."

"What do you want?"

"I want you to never leave." At her look, he raised his hands, "But barring that, I wouldn't mind seeing you without that dressing gown on again."

She smiled, pleased by his request. "Deal. You should get some rest. I suspect your sergeant isn't going to be of much use to you tomorrow."

"It's alright, he's earned it."

"That was a good thing you did, with the Chief. It meant a lot to him."

Robbie smiled fondly, "Yeah, it meant a lot to me too."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

He was making a quick round through the building, hoping to be seen by as many people as possible so he could leave early. That way if anyone came looking for him there would be plenty of people who could say "I just say him."

He was surprised when he saw her walking toward him. He hadn't seen much of her lately, too few murders, which in the grand scheme of things was probably a good thing. But it did mean he didn't see her as regularly. He realized he missed her.

With a sarcastic smile he teased her, "What are you doing here, nobody's died?"

She smiled, drawing nearer, "I know, you'll be missing your targets." He couldn't help but laugh at her joke. His eyes were draw down to the enticing gap in her blouse as she stepped closer. It was slightly closer than normal and she was smiling up at him. It was a bit of a struggle to keep his eyes off that intriguing gap.

She leaned closer still, "No, this is a social call. I'm having a party." She paused looking around, "It's a special sort of birthday." At his quizzical look she explained, "Think of a number, then forget about it immediately."

He smiled teasingly and whispered, "Thank you." In the back of his mind, he realized Val had been right. She was closer to his age. Perhaps still a bit too young but not out of the realm of possibility.

Her touch on his forearm pulled him back into the conversation. It was only a quick touch but he felt a lingering tingle up the length of his arm. She stepped away from him, "Oh, uh, if you'd like to bring anybody."

His gaze dropped, momentarily, lingering on the skin revealed in the gap of her shirt. He was embarrassed to say he didn't have anyone, "I haven't really got anybody."

Teasingly, she smiled at him, "You could always bring the dishy Sergeant Hathaway." Casting a small glance up and down the length of him, she turned and walked away.

Turning to walk away, all he could think about was that damned word again. Why did all of the women in his life keep calling Hathaway dishy?

* * *

He'd managed to escape early. After Laura's comment about Hathaway he had no desire to have drinks with the boy. He'd mentioned the party to James, strong-armed him into going with him. Then he'd left for the day.

In honesty, he'd left early almost every day in the past few weeks. And each of those days, Val was waiting for him. She'd been teaching him to cook basic things, just enough for two. They chatted, talked about his day, it felt like when she was still alive.

His anger had dissipated replaced by an increasing sense of loneliness. Yet he couldn't find it in him to go out, try to find someone new. His fear was, if he did, Val would disappear. He wasn't sure he was ready to lose her again.

"You're home early, my love."

Dropping his things into the bowl, "Low crime has its benefits."

"Did you have a good day?"

He pulled on his tie, "I did. I'm famished, what are you teaching me to cook tonight."

"No lessons tonight, there's plenty left from last night. You can heat that up and then we can watch the match."

"You're volunteering to watch football?"

"Heat your dinner." She watched him as he moved about the kitchen. Once she was certain he was engrossed in what he was doing, she moved behind him. Pushing up on her toes, she whispered, "When were you going to tell me I won the bet?

* * *

He watched her blow out the candles, her eyes closed. Her smile was luminous as she looked around at all of the people I attendance. Her eyes caught his and the smiled blossomed a bit more brilliantly. Her friends carrying the cake pulled away and he seized the moment.

"Happy Birthday." He leaned in to kiss her check, inhaling her perfume. He was surprised when her lips pressed into her cheek. They were warm, soft. The others in the room seemed to disappear in that moment.

She pulled away first, looking up at him. "Thanks, Robbie. I didn't think you'd turn up. Are you having a nice time?"

He nodded, in this moment, he was having a very good time. "Yeah, considering…"

Smirking at him, "Considering?"

Afraid he'd upset her, he decided to be honest, "Well I'm out of practice with parties and such. And it's louder than expected."

"Well they were all medical students once upon a time." Raising her glass, she smiled, "A couple of glasses of this stuff and they revert." Pausing for a moment, "Hey do you play cards?"

Unsure at her question, "A bit of cribbage with me granddad years ago." She made a face, and he found himself explaining, "But just for matches."

Laughing, she pointed in the direction of one of the other rooms, "Some of the guys are organizing a late night poker session." He looked away and she added, "Probably not for matches."

He laughed at her mirth and excitement, thinking how lovely she was. "Not my scene." He wondered what it would be like to have her all to himself.

"Where's James?"

He shook his head, "I have no idea."

They stared at one another drinking deeply from their champagne flutes. She gave him an odd look then switched hands. Before he knew what was happening she was caressing his face. Her hand cupped his cheek. His eyes widened, surprised at the intimacy of the touch.

As her thumb stroked his cheek, he knew she was wiping away the traces of her lipstick. Still there was a shock of sensation pulsing from where she was touching him. This was possibly the least intimate thing she could have done and yet he hadn't felt this connected with another person since Val's death.

Their eyes met as she stopped stroking his skin. She pulled her hand away, smiling at him. He wanted to say something but was unsure of quite what to say.

"Laura, it's time for cake."

She smiled sadly, tilting her head toward the sound. He nodded his understanding, "Go on, it's your party."

She stepped away from him, "Don't leave without saying goodbye, OK?"

"Sure." He watched her walk away his cheek was still warm from her touch.

* * *

He was brushing his teeth when she appeared in the mirror behind him. He almost choked on the toothbrush. "Must you sneak up on me like that?"

"Well, if I could, I would be happy to make noise." Seeing his exasperated expression in the mirror, "You know I will be around, one would think you would expect me."

Turning to smile down at her, "You could just greet me at the door."

She nodded, "Duly noted. How was your party?"

"It wasn't my party; I was just attending."

"At least the good doctor doesn't leave lipstick all over you like she's marking her territory." He smiled to himself remembering her touch and how much he'd enjoyed it. "Did you get her a nice present?"

"A present?"

"Tell me you didn't go empty handed? You at least took a bottle of champagne, something."

"No, she didn't seem to want to acknowledge the number so I thought a gift would be foolish."

"She threw a party, she wanted to celebrate, if not the number at least the occasion."

Walking past her, "Well I can't very well do anything about it now."

"You need to get her something."

"I don't know what to get her. I was married to you for years and I barely knew what to get you."

"What does she like?"

"Dead people?" At her look, he shrugged, "She had a nice garden. I could get her something to plant."

"No, get her an indoor plant. Something she can keep in her office. Something to remind her of the living and of you."

* * *

A case had finally come along, terrible as it was. But, at least, it was an excuse to see her. She'd agreed to meet for a walk so he could pick her brain. He handed her the sketch, "He drew that in about 60 seconds. And it was as if he didn't need to look at me, just one glance."

She held the sketch, looking up at him. "Well I'm not a psychoanalyst."

"I wasn't going to quote you in evidence. I just wanted a friendly opinion." They smiled at one another, "Could the lad be…I don't know, autistic? Is that the word? I mean, I only know what I've seen on TV documentaries that I wasn't watching properly."

She drew in a deep breath, "The trouble is, all these words are dangerous…autism, dyslexia, bipolarity, schizophrenia. We throw people into those boxes, and we kid ourselves that we've explained everything and solved the problem. And we've done neither."

"Am I allowed to say he's a bit weird?" She snorted at him, "Or do I have to say, uh…differently normal?"

They stopped walking, turning to face one another. Shrugging she smiled up at him, "Well, you can say anything you like to me."

He nodded, wondering if there was a secondary meaning to her words. "That's something these days."

Their eyes met, held. She was the first to turn away, start walking again. "Listen, the boy's obviously got exceptional skills. He can see things and reproduce them on paper with no apparent effort. And you could argue that all artists are abnormal in that respect. The same way a musician can listen to an entire symphony orchestra and hear the one instrument that plays a wrong note."

"He reckons he's no good at ideas."

"That may well be true. He may have trouble making connections. Joining the dots to make sense of his world. Or it's possible that all of his life, people have told him he's no good at ideas, and he's ended up believing them."

"And would he be capable of murder?"

"Ugh, I don't know." She sighed, looking for the right words. "It's…unlikely except…"

Robbie stopped, let her turn to him, "What?"

"He might…he might if someone told him to do it."

Her thoughts gave him pause. He wondered if the boy had been manipulated by someone.

"Did you enjoy my party?"

"The champagne was good."

"I guess that's something."

"I'm not much of a party person, never was really. If I'd known it was your birthday, I would have offered to take you to dinner."

"You still can. I believe anything within a week of the actual event is acceptable."

He nodded, "Deal. As soon as I close this case, dinner."

"It's a date."

* * *

He was tying his tie for the third time, ignoring her steady gaze. "Did you get her a present?"

"I did. Took your recommendation and got her a plant. The lady in the shop said it won't require much care so it's perfect for the office."

Smiling to herself, pleased he had both taken her advice and asked the doctor on a date. "What kind of plant?"

"An Easter cactus. The lady said it blooms in the spring."

"You bought her a cactus?"

Pulling on his jacket, "It's a flowering cactus."

"And you aren't worried about the message a cactus might send."

"Message?"

"That you think she's prickly, difficult to touch…"

"Or easy to have around and beautiful when she blooms."

"I guess I hadn't thought of it that way."

"Can I go now?"

She smiled, "Have fun."

* * *

They walked along the river, dinner had been an enjoyable affair. He wasn't quite sure she thought of this as a date. She'd insisted upon meeting him at the restaurant rather than having him pick her up.

He hadn't brought the plant into the restaurant. Thought it would look odd. Plus, Val's words about the meaning of the gift had gained purchase in the back of his mind. Perhaps he'd picked the wrong thing. Perhaps she would see it the same way Val had, women often thought the same.

"Robbie, are you ok?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "It's just…I have a present for you. Should have brought something to your party."

She shook her head, "You didn't have to. Coming to my party was enough."

"No, it's not right. Certain birthdays should be acknowledged."

She smiled, "So you have a present?" He nodded, "Where is it?"

"Still in my car."

"And have you changed your mind?"

Meeting her eyes, "Not about giving you a gift, just about the gift."

"Do I get a say in the matter?"

"Are you sure?"

Linking her arm into his, she tugged lightly, leading him to the carpark. As they made it to his car, he pressed the button to unlock the door. He opened the door and removed the plant. Sheepishly, he turned back to her and held it out.

"It's an Easter cactus. I thought it might be nice in your office. It doesn't require much care which I thought would be good for your schedule." He pulled it back, shaking his head, "I should have just gotten you something to put in your garden, or a book, something else."

Gently she pulled the plant from his hands, "Can I tell you a secret?" He met her eyes, nodding. "I can't grow anything."

"I've seen your garden."

She nodded, "I have a man, he comes weekly, keeps it all in order. Left to me it would all be dead." Holding up the plant, "This I might be able to keep alive. At least, I'm going to try."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Papers were sprawled all around the room. He was determined to clear out the spare room, make it into a proper guestroom on the off chance Lyn wanted to come visit. Now looking at all of the paperwork, strewn around the room, he was thinking about giving it up as a bad job. Perhaps he could just pay for a hotel if she ever came down.

Dropping onto the sofa, he grabbed the paper and started to read. There was nothing really worth reading and he had resorted to reading the classifieds. One caught his eye and it was like being drenched in ice water.

 _Always remember._

 _Forever. W_

He stared at it, read it multiple times, trying to understand it.

"I've always liked this song. Do you remember dancing to it after we put the kids to bed?"

He didn't respond instantly, his head still mulling over the words he'd read.

"I should have bet you wouldn't get this finished."

He dropped the paper, still open, onto the sofa. "I'm going to finish. I was just taking a break."

"You were thinking about boxing it all up and dumping it back into the spare."

He nodded, "Guilty as charged."

"Care to explain why you are digging through all of this on a Friday night. You could be out doing something fun, exciting."

"Do I look like a fun and exciting guy to you?"

Sitting on the arm of the sofa, she smiled at him. "You used to be."

"Maybe it was the company I kept."

"Something tells me the good doctor is quite good company. You could call her."

"I don't know."

"What don't you know, Robbie?"

"She's good company but what if I'm not. What if I mess it all up? I have to work with her."

"And what if it all goes right?" She looked around the room at his mess, "You should call Lyn. Ask her to come down. She'd be happy to lend you a hand."

He scoffed, "She has her own life. Doesn't need to give up a weekend to help her old dad clear out stuff he should have gotten rid of ages ago."

"I'm pretty sure she would just look at it as spending time with her dad."

Robbie's mobile rang. He fumbled with the papers on the table, finding the phone. "James, it'll be a case."

She nodded, "Be careful. And call your daughter." As he waved at her, grabbing his things, her eyes fell to the paper. That was a reminder he didn't need.

* * *

He was walking back to his car. There wasn't much more they could do at the crime scene so he and James had agreed to regroup in the morning when they might both be fresh.

His mind wandered to Laura. She'd looked beautiful but then, when didn't she. She was one of those rare women who looked equally at ease dressed up and dressed down. More importantly, she made him feel at ease.

She'd done that from the first time they'd met. Even when Morse had been at his worst, she would always side with him. Always find some way to put him at ease while subtly needling Morse.

He wondered if she'd had a date at the party she was enjoying. Who was the mystery man? No doubt someone who moved in vastly more exclusive circles than he did. Someone younger, closer to her own age.

Despite Val encouraging him, he felt uncomfortable pursuing Laura, Dr. Hobson. Beyond what he'd told Val, his fear of losing their friendship. His real fear was losing Val. He had all he needed at home, seeking anything else would make him feel guilty, as if he were cheating.

The thought stopped him short. He'd not had that feeling when he'd gone on other dates. So why now? Val actually approved of Laura, had bet him to get him to ask her out. Although, when it came right down to it, he hadn't asked her. He'd suggested it and she had pushed, encouraged him.

If she was so interested in him, then why was she out with another man? As he pushed open the door, the creaking hinges grated against his nerves. For the first time since she'd shown up, he hoped Val wasn't there.

Inside he dropped his things in the bowl on the table then stripped off his jacket. The mess in his sitting room beckoned. He dove in, straightening everything. Dropping it haphazardly back into boxes. He didn't stop until it was all packed away and tucked carefully into the spare room.

Turning out the lights, he staggered into his bedroom, stripping clothing as he went. He hadn't seen her but she'd been there, carefully watching him. As the light in his bedroom flicked off, she said a silent prayer he hadn't returned to the paper, to the memoriam which had caught his eye earlier.

* * *

They entered the building, The Portobello Club. It stood for everything Robbie hated about the city he now called home.

James sensing his unease, attempted to lighten the mood. "No ales. No taps. Certainly do do things differently around here."

Laughter swelled from across the room. Robbie nodded toward it, "I was wrong about fashionable idiots. Just idiots."

A man neither of them knew approached, "Present company excepted, I hope." Robbie turned to the voice, "Hey, I won't bite your head off. I'm enough of an African to take a joke. I've got a skin like an elephant's hide. I'm Hansie Kriel. And you are?"

Recognition dawned on Robbie, the man Innocent had told them about. "Detective Inspector Lewis. Could you tell us anything about the fight that happened here last night?"

"It was a storm in a teacup according to my star witness. Tom, my manager."

James interceded, "Can we talk to him, please?"

"Sure. I can tell you that my employee on the door behaved impeccably."

Hi, I'm Ann Kriel. Um, is this about that stupid incident with those dons last night?"

Hansie nodded, "Yeah."

"Okay, why don't let me deal with it? I was here, so…"

Addressing his wife, "Okay, I'll catch you later, maybe."

She watched him leave, "So, we've got CCTV, it should tell you everything that you need to know." She turned to Robbie, "You know, you'll see just how wicked these Oxford dons can be."

Robbie smiled, liking her, what she was saying. "No surprise there."

She nodded, "Mm…you know, maybe we should bar these academics. Just let, you know, real people in, like you."

She walked away, leaving both mean staring at her. Robbie watched her walk, "Real?"

James stepped closer, trying to keep the glee from his voice. "I'd hazard a guess she's flirting with you, sir."

Robbie looked back at James trying to gauge if the younger man was teasing. Then he realized he didn't care if he was teasing. If the beautiful woman was flirting, he didn't mind.

* * *

He was walking along, heading back to his car when he almost ran into her. She was hurried, rushed, seemed almost scared. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine."

He looked back in the direction she'd come from, "Was someone following you?"

She shook her head, looking away, "No, no. I'm fine. I was just, um…"

Pointing in the direction she was looking, "Would you like me to see you home?"

She sighed, nodding slightly, "Yeah."

His hand found the small of her back as they walked. It was just a few short blocks, there was no conversation until she was opening the door of her flat.

"You seemed really frightened just now."

"Oh no, I'm fine."

He followed her into the flat, was surprised to see a bed. "Oh, you live above the shop?"

"Uh, no. Hansie, my soon-to-be ex-husband uses it when he's in town. And, well, I sometimes flop here if it's a late night and he's not around, you know? Which…which is often."

"You seem to be burning the midnight oil."

"Yeah, well, it's the story of my life."

"It takes a while to settle down in this city."

She shook he head, "Oh no, no. Oxford suits me just fine. You know, my daughter's studying here for four years. And, well Dimittus is based here."

"Dimittus?"

"That's where I've just been. It's a, um, charity for refugees." Sitting in the chair, she rummages through her handbag, removing a brochure and photo. "It's my soapbox, Hansie calls it." Holding out the brochure and photo, "Here. This man, he is one of the greatest musicians in the world. Now he plays a cora. It's a type of a lute. And he has got a library of songs in his head that goes back centuries. But you know, his government see him as a threat, so he is currently in a camp near Dover, awaiting deportation back to prison."

"How did you get involved?"

She shrugged, "Well, um, I'm just one of those sad people that's always looking for a cause." Robbie smiled, still looking at the picture. "What?"

"Just…charities and nightclubs. It's an unusual mixture."

Nodding, she smiled at him. "Yeah, you're not kidding. You know, I sometimes feel like I've got an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other."

Robbie nodded, thrilled by the idea. "Who's winning?"

"Jury's out at the moment. But, you know, maybe…maybe one day once I'm shot of this bloody divorce I…" Seeing his smile, she paused, "Hey, thank you for being so kind."

He shook his head, standing, "Ah."

She stood too, "Um, I'd like to treat you to dinner."

"Oh, there's no need for that. I just looked in for five minutes to make sure you were all right."

"Yeah, I know you're busy, but, um, I think it would be nice." Taking a small step closer, "Well, don't you?"

He paused, not quite sure how to answer. Then he realized it would be nice. "Yes, I do, actually."

He walked toward the door, she followed behind him. "I'll call you."

He turned back to her, "I look forward to it."

She leaned forward, kissing him lightly on the cheek. "Take care."

* * *

He knew sleep wouldn't come, once again. His brain was too full of the case, Ann Kriel and surprisingly, Morse. It seemed his fingerprints were everywhere suddenly. Wagner lovers left and right on this case, that strange advertisement in the paper.

What were the odds the mother of the man who found the victim had known Morse? By the way she'd talked about him, knew him intimately. Opening the door to his spare bedroom, he dug through the boxes, finding one he wanted.

Settling in the sitting room floor, he dug through the box. There was paperwork he needed to go through but finally he found a stack of photos. He flipped through them and there was Morse. Smiling in the background as he'd gotten a commendation.

Despite everything, he'd cared deeply for the man. A well of emotion that was equal parts admiration and loathing fought for space inside his head. He wondered if James would feel the same about him one day.

His mobile rang, a number he didn't recognize. "Lewis."

"It's me, Ann Kriel."

All thoughts of Morse and James floated away, "Oh, hi."

"Are you free for dinner?"

"When?"

"Right now, if you like."

Looking at his watch, surprised by the lateness of the call. "Uh…"

"It would be perfect for me." She paused, "What are you up to, anyway?"

The microwave dinged in the background, he hoped she hadn't heard it. "Reading."

"Well I hope I am more intriguing than a book."

* * *

"Yes, so, I designed and I ran the first club in London and then Hansie brought in the money to expand and we went into America. Honestly, it's like… Well, it's like a world tour with him, you know?"

Robbie looked around the restaurant, "How did you get involved in all this? The hours must be a killer."

"Oh, you know, ironically enough, that was the appeal. I'm a chronic insomniac."

He nodded, "You and me both."

She smiled, "Ah, you see? Kindred spirits."

Shaking his head, "I don't know what it is with me. I normally sleep like a log."

"Is it ghosts?" He stared at her, wondering what would cause her to ask the question. Seeing his dismay, "What?"

He shook his head, trying to shake the thought from it. "No, you're right. Just came as a shock to hear you say it out loud."

She shook her head, "Don't look back."

"Is that what you do?"

"Well, I try. I just…" She picked up her glass, toasting, "To new beginnings."

* * *

He was home, had read the letter Walli Helm had given him. It didn't really provide any additional insight into the enigma which was Morse. But the woman was right. It was time for him to bury the past. But how much of the past should he bury.

He hadn't cooked one of the simple meals Val had been carefully teaching him how to make. He'd gone with a simple fry up, something he could do in his sleep. He didn't want the reminder of her tonight. One ghost taking up residence in his head was enough.

James had come and gone, teasing him gently about his taste in women. The truth was, the lad was right. He seemed to keep choosing the wrong woman. Even Val had commented on it. Perhaps Morse wasn't the only ghost he needed to bury. Perhaps he needed to give up on the idea of a future with someone new.

He'd had his great love, maybe you never really got over that. Maybe he'd been fooling himself thinking of a future with Laura. He was happy living here with his ghost. With that thought the loneliness gripped him again.

He hadn't seen Val since the beginning of the case. In the time he'd been back, it wasn't like he saw her, talked with her, every single night. But of late, he had. Hers was the last voice he heard before falling asleep and the first one he heard most mornings.

While she was there, he'd slept, each night, deep, dreamless sleep. It wasn't until he'd gone out with Laura that the insomnia had returned. Hours of not sleeping Val had helped fill. Was his subconscious trying to tell him Laura was a mistake?

His head fell back onto the sofa, a single tear slid down his cheek. He couldn't have them both. Deep down he knew it. If he chose one, he would lose the other. Yet somehow, he had to find a way to stay anchored in the here and now.

Grabbing for his phone, he held down a single button, listened as the call connected. "Hello, pet. It's your dad." He paused, "I know, but I like saying it. I was wondering if you might like to come visit for a weekend."

He listened as she talked, "No, I have a proper spare room. I've had a good clean out and the room is fit for habitation. I even found some things you might like to have. I'm on call this weekend but next weekend…"

Smiling he felt his entire body relax as his daughter said yes. They talked for a few minutes more. He stood as he disconnected the call while walking to his bedroom. He paused only to place his phone on the charger. Then he fell, fully clothed, onto the bed and slept.

She watched from the corner of the room, tears glistening on her cheeks. Not for the first time, she wondered if she was doing the right thing. Perhaps her presence was causing him more harm than good. She moved to the bed, lay beside him, watching him sleep. His soft snores comforted her.

Reaching out, she stroked his cheek. One of the oddities of her existence was that she could feel him, touch him, but he couldn't feel it in return. Yet somehow, despite this, he curled into her, his arm falling across her waist pulling her closer. If he woke at this moment, he would see a pillow, would probably be even more disappointed.

But, it was a price she was willing to pay. She could see into his mind and feel the comfort thinking she was in his arms brought him. All she could hope was the balm of sleep would make him forget this moment and he would wake refreshed. Then, perhaps, she could start guiding him again.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

She listened to his side of the phone call. While not one hundred percent certain of the nature of the call, she was willing to wager a guess based on what she could hear. The recent months had seen them settle into a peaceful rhythm. There wasn't quite the intimacy of before but it was still pleasant.

He had retreated from her, withdrawn into himself. She recognized the behavior, he was protecting himself. The small miracle was he seemed to have drawn closer to Lyn and Patrick. He'd taken an avid interest in both of their lives. She was thankful for that, pleased he was keeping them close.

However, at the same time, he'd withdrawn from her he'd also pulled away from James and Dr. Hobson. He was polite with them, friendly even, but all at an arm's length. She doubted either of them even really noticed. But she noticed, had spent great lengths of time watching him with them.

She smiled at him as he ended the call, "An allotment?"

He nodded, not quite meeting her eye, "Why not? Gives me something to do, gets me out of the flat. You're always on me to eat better. Hard not to do if I grow my own."

"And what exactly do you know about growing anything?"

"I can learn."

Raising her eyebrows, "Need I remind you, you once killed all of my house plants while the kids and I were away visiting my parents?"

"That was different, I was busy and forgot to water them. This is outdoors, they'll get rain."

"And you really want to spend all of your spare time with pensioners digging around in the muck."

Finally, he met her gentle gaze, "I need this. Need something to do, something that's not about the job. Something to look after."

It was the first honest thing he'd said to her in weeks. Nodding, almost imperceptibly, she smiled. "Then pensioners and muck it is. But I expect you to eat everything you grow."

* * *

Val's words about his allotment were still echoing in his mind. He didn't know why he'd told her the truth, hadn't meant to. He wasn't even sure he'd known the truth until the words came out of his mouth. But the minute they were out, he'd seen the resonance in her eyes, knew she recognized the truth in his words.

Her acceptance had healed something inside him. Something he didn't know was broken. He'd missed their closeness, hated the eggshells they seemed to be walking on of late. There was none of the teasing banter he'd grown accustomed to and it hurt. He didn't know why he'd built a wall between them.

Perhaps it was his almost certain knowledge she would leave when he moved on. It was this knowledge which had made him push everyone but the kids away. As he pulled them closer, he pushed away James and Laura. He was certain if he maintained the perfect balance, she would stay forever. He could have the best of all worlds.

The problem was he needed to be needed. This awkward limbo he'd placed himself in meant he was a part of but not connected to anything. He hoped the allotment would fill the void. A little plot of land that would need his gentle care and concern in order to thrive. He could sublimate his need to be needed, at least he hoped so.

Parking his car, he pushed the maelstrom of thoughts away. Put on the jovial exterior he seemed to wear as a mask these days. It would be either James or Laura and he wanted everything in place before he encountered them.

It was Laura, standing at the back of the SOCO van already zipped into her crime scene suit. He waved and walked to her, accepting the offered suit as she greeted him.

"Morning." As they fell into step, she teased him. "Where's your better half?"

"If, by that, you mean Sergeant Hathaway…"

"I was going to say your Mini-Me, but I didn't think you'd get the pop culture reference."

"Don't be daft woman. Even I've seen The Italian Job."

He sped up a step, leaving her slightly behind him. He could imagine the look on her face as she tried to work out if he was truly clueless or teasing her. In reality, he only vaguely knew what she was talking about but he really hated her to think he wasn't current.

She caught up before they made it into the church, preceding him to the altar. His stomach churned as he took in the scene, "Dear God." Taking the recorder from his pocket, he held it down for her as she crouched by the body. "This was his 999 call." The recording played. Laura listened intently. He stopped the recording, "But this was definitely self-inflicted?"

"No doubt. He shot himself."

"When you push someone hard enough in the right direction, a suicide becomes a murder weapon."

Laura nodded, "He lined up the fatal shot to deliberately deface the altar."

"Is that what this is about? An extreme grudge against the church?"

She looked back at him, drawing his attention to the altar. "Also, this got the brunt."

He leaned over her, reading from the blood-stained flyer. "The Garden?"

"Christian answers to contemporary questions." Looking back at him, "Hardly a suicide cult."

James came striding down the aisle, "Cheery start to the day. Do we have an ID?"

Laura took a step back towards James, "Yes, his name is Will…"

At the same time, they said the dead man's surname, "McEwan."

James went pale, inhaled deeply then turned running up the aisle, away from the body. Laura looked back at Robbie, concern etched on her face. When Robbie made no move, "You should go after him."

"Let's finish in here. He'll be fine."

She blinked once, surprised at his lack of concern. She nodded and continued walking through her findings.

* * *

He stripped out of the crime scene suit. Walking away pulling on his jacket he went in search of James. He'd been annoyed at first but now he was a bit concerned.

"Lewis?" He'd just spotted James, knelt down in the graveyard. He turned to find Laura striding towards him at a fast pace, "Suicide note in his pocket. Back of a photograph."

He took the crime scene bag, flipping it over. Written on the back was the note, "On the road from Gethsemane to Calvary I lost my way."

"Gethsemane is…"

He nodded, "The Garden of Gethsemane, Christ's Last Supper. I knew that. And Calvary is the site of the crucifixion." Watching James, pacing, he missed Laura's smile. "It had to be biblical, didn't it?"

"Hathaway all right?"

"I'm not sure."

* * *

He walked away from James, anger coursing through him. He'd trusted the boy, implicitly. Believed everything he'd ever told him. And it was all a lie.

It was a betrayal he couldn't fathom. The mere thought of it made him sick. It made him uncertain if he would ever be able to look him in the eye again.

He'd meant it when he said it didn't matter about James' sexuality. He genuinely didn't care. But now, in light of the lies, was it just one more thing he didn't know about the boy? One more untruth chipping away at his confidence.

Val had convinced him to take James under his wing, accept him as a confidant, a friend. And this is what he got in return. Lies, betrayals and now his life was in danger. The idea of it struck fear in his heart.

He'd sent him home, assigned a protective detail to keep him safe. Now he was looking through the evidence, desperately trying to find what he was missing. He was afraid if he didn't, James would be next on the killer's hit list.

* * *

He was pacing when she entered the office, "Knock, knock."

"Ma'am, come in."

"Just checking on your progress today."

"Well no sightings on Feardorcha Phelan, but some activity. He seems to have set his sights on Sergeant Hathaway."

"Good God, why?"

He didn't want to betray the lad, so he kept with what she knew. "Because of his friendship with Will. Anyway, I've got a protection team keeping tabs on Hathaway so if Feardorcha makes a move…"

"Well maybe he'll show his face tonight." She paused, taking in the extraordinary amount of stress one of her top detectives seemed to be under. "Lewis, you and Hathaway… Have you fallen out?"

"It's fine… But thanks, ma'am."

Leaning into his desk, "So what you'll need now?"

"Well Feardorcha's prints are on this, too." He held up the note he'd found taped to James' back in the club. "So either he's the killer or he's been set up. If it's the latter, it has to be somebody we've already met."

"How can you be certain?"

"Well only a handful of people know enough about Hathaway and Will to have a reason to do this." He sighed, "But…"

"But what?"

"I've drawn a blank. I don't know."

Moving around the chair, she sat in front of his desk. "I haven't told you this, but you remind me of my inspector when I was a sergeant. Felt like half the time I was just there for him to bounce ideas off. And mostly, that was enough."

Recognizing her words for the offer they were, he nodded, grateful for her compassion. "Well if you're sure you've got the time?"

She shrugged, "Well my busy, exciting social life…"

* * *

They been through all of the evidence and now were talking through it. Innocent paced, "So there are three options. One, Feardorcha's the killer. Two, he's being set up and he's alive. Three, he's being set up and he's dead."

"That's it, ma'am."

"Of course, there is the chance of a fourth option, which is that he's alive and working in cahoots with somebody else." Looking down at the pad on Robbie's desk, "What does this mean, the 'significance of names'?"

"Well this killer's obsessed with symbolism. I just wondered if there might be a double meaning in a name or something. Feardorcha using an alias or working with someone else who is."

Moving around the desk, "I know this great site." She pushed at Robbie, taking over his chair. "My sister's having a baby. Lucky her." She typed the address, "Now, if we put in, let's say Robert…it means…"

"Bright frame, I know." He took a few steps away, "Try the names of some of the other suspects. If that's all right with you, ma'am." Jean started typing as Robbie answered his mobile, "Lewis. What? When?" He put his hand over the phone, "Uniform have lost Hathaway somewhere in Jericho."

Recognizing the urgency of the situation they kept working through the names of suspects, "Charlie, Charles meaning man, army or warrior. Any use?"

"No, try Henry."

"From Heimrich, meaning home ruler."

"How about Conan?"

"Little wolf or hound."

"Is there any way of doing it the other way round, putting in the meaning first?"

Nodding, "Yeah, hang on. Okay, go on."

Leaning over her, right beside her ear. "Put in Life Born of Fire."

She typed it in, nodding. "I'm going to have to break it up. Let me put in life separately."

The names scrolled down the screen, one leapt off the screen. "Hold on, Zoe means life. Try Kenneth."

"From the Gaelic Cinaed and Cinaed means…" She clicked the link, "Born of Fire."

"Zoe Kenneth, Life Born of Fire."

* * *

He tore through the streets on his way to Zoe Kenneth's house. The smoke was already billowing from the windows. He directed the entry team to break down the door and didn't hesitate to enter the burning building.

James was inside the fire and he couldn't help but feel partially responsible. He followed the uniforms up the stairs, fear gripping at him when he saw James, seemingly lifeless, on the bed. Zoe Kenneth screamed when she saw them, an animal like sound as she threw her body over James.

The uniforms pulled at her while he tended to James. His skin was clammy, his breathing shallow. With strength he didn't know he possessed, he hoisted James over his shoulder and started staggering through the inferno.

He no longer cared about his own life, just needed to get James to safety. An explosion rocked the room as he made it to the bottom of the stairs. Protecting his eyes from the flying glass he found a new reservoir of strength and made it to the door.

He screamed at the uniforms, still struggling with Zoe Kenneth, "Get her in a car. You're gonna need an ambulance for this one."

Another explosion lit up the night, knocking all of them to the ground. The uniforms dropped Zoe Kenneth. While they were distracted, nursing their own injuries, she stood and walked directly to the fire.

James followed or tried to. If not for Robbie, he would have followed her into the flames. As she was engulfed by the fire one last explosion concussed the night blowing Robbie and James back against the car.

* * *

James started awake, surprised to find Robbie standing over his bed, "Sir."

"Sergeant."

Blinking, he inhaled deeply, looking around to take in his surroundings. "How long have I been here?"

"Quite a while. You were drugged."

"Zoe?"

Robbie inhaled deeply, "She didn't… I'm sorry."

Bits and pieces of that night flashed in James' mind. He smiled, "You saved me."

"Don't be so melodramatic." Robbie paused, not quite able to meet James' eye, "So how are you feeling?"

"Hungover."

They both laughed, "Well I just wanted to make sure you… You know."

James watched the older man walk away, "Thank you, sir."

Their eyes met and held an unspoken understanding passing between them. Without another word, Robbie opened the door and left.

Down the hall, he bumped into Innocent. He nodded, "Ma'am."

She pointed toward James' room, "Seems we are of the same mind, Inspector."

"He's awake; says he feels hungover."

"And you, Inspector? How do you feel?"

He rubbed at his left eye, "Much the same ma'am."

"I think you know I was opposed to assigning him to you." She waited until Robbie nodded, "But I'm a big enough person to admit when I'm wrong. Against all logic, you two work. I'll understand if you can't get past whatever it is that happened between the two of you. But I think it would be a mistake. You're good for each other."

"I appreciate that, ma'am."

"You'll let me know what you decide?"

He shook his head, a half smile turning up the corners of his mouth. "Nothing to decide ma'am, he's my partner."

Reaching out, she squeezed his arm as she passed him. "Good result, Inspector.

* * *

He opened the door to the flat, his arms filled with bags. As he kicked the door closed, he called out. "Val, I hope you're here and ready to teach me something new and healthy to cook."

She appeared from around the corner, smiling but slightly confused. "You haven't taken possession of the allotment yet, what is all of this?"

Putting the bags on the counter, he started unpacking. "I gave up the allotment." At her look, he smiled, "I don't need to care for a piece of land. There are plenty of people I see every day I need to care a bit more for."

Tears filled her eyes, she smiled. "Yes, there are."

"I know, one day, you're going to leave. But you're here now and there are still a few things I need to learn from you." He paused, took a deep breath, "And when you do leave, it will be because you are certain I have found my place in the world."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

"Squash? You're going to play squash with a man young enough to be your son. Does that really seem wise?"

He grumbled into the bag he was packing, "Enough, woman. You're always on me to get more exercise. This is exercise."

"I meant walking more, maybe a ride on a bike." Motioning at his attire, "This is insanity."

"It'll be fine, pet. Besides, I made a promise to spend more time with James."

She sighed, "I know, I just thought you meant at the pub. Not in some infantile athletic exercise."

"Get used to it, love. I'm an athletic man."

She rolled her eyes, "Run along. I'll be here with some liniment when you come limping along." He lifted the bag walking toward the door. "Be sure to tell the dishy sergeant I said hi."

Looking over his shoulder, "I thought you were calling him James now."

"Oh, I still am. But I'm imagining him in his athletic gear and I suspect he's quite dishy in those."

Muttering under his breath as he opened the door, "You and Laura…"

Val smiled to herself at the comparison, wondering if he even knew he'd made it. "See you later."

* * *

He staggered in the door, trying to stand as upright as possible. He didn't want her to know she'd been right. Squash was a mistake.

Falling back against the door, he thought about the comments from Oswald Cooper. There was no need for the man to have mentioned Val. He couldn't help but feel he was being manipulated, his buttons pushed.

"Robbie, you alright?"

Taking a deep breath, he pushed away from the door, wincing as his back caught. "I'm fine."

"I thought I would teach you a simple pasta dish tonight."

Turning into the kitchen, he raised the bag he was carrying, wincing as he did. "Takeaway."

Raising a single eyebrow, she smirked, "How bad is it?"

"A muscle spasm. Some pills and I have to buy a new mattress. Already bought it. It'll be delivered tomorrow."

"Poor thing. There's some liniment in the bathroom. What if you tell me about your day while you take a bath?"

He opened the takeaway container, forked up some of the contents. "No teasing, no I told you so's."

"It's no fun kicking you while you're down."

"Has the hospital called, am I dying?"

She laughed, "No, you're perfectly healthy." Motioning to his back, "If a bit worse for the wear at the moment."

"I've not heard the end of this have I?"

"Not by a long shot."

He smiled, happy she seemed to be more focused on his injury. Perhaps she wouldn't notice his distress over the words of Oswald Cooper."

* * *

The envelope was sitting on his desk when we returned to the office. A handwriting he didn't recognize. He could feel something hard inside.

Tearing open the envelope, he removed a newspaper clipping. The headline was a kick in the gut. The story of Val's death. Panicking he dug into the envelope, removing a single piece of paper with a key taped to it. The same handwriting, this time signed.

 _Never stop looking.  
Your house is not a home._

 _Oswald Cooper_

A chill ran down his spine. Another ghost, this one decidedly less friendly. This would have been mailed before the man was killed. The feeling of being manipulated returned. Tucking the note back into the envelope, he put both of them in his jacket pocket.

* * *

They sat in the pub, catching up on the afternoon. The ends of this case didn't quite meet. He was certain they had all they needed, well almost all of it. But it wouldn't quite come into focus.

Pulling the pill bottle from his pocket, he shook a few into his hand then downed them with a healthy swig from his pint. Seeing the look from James, "What?"

"I'm just…glad to see you're taking care of yourself."

"Finish your drink, sergeant, then you can take me home."

"You know, sir, I notice you always call me sergeant when you're annoyed with me."

"Just goes to show you're smarter than you look."

* * *

They walked down the hallway to his flat. His old mattress was leaning against the wall outside. Cringing, he punched at the mattress, "Left it on the table, I think." He opened the door, reach in finding the book. "Yeah. There you go." James opened the bag, removing the book. "Eunuch, means keeper of the bed." Nodding his head toward the discarded mattress, "Maybe he'd know what to do with this."

"Well I'll give you a hand getting rid of it if you like."

"What, this time of night?"

James nodded, "Yeah, there's a skip down your road."

"What?"

"Oh, come on, it's a skip. Be rude not to."

Scoffing "I can't bel… We're police officers, man."

James shrugged his shoulders, "Fine."

* * *

They'd gotten the mattress down to the car rather easily. Now they were driving down the road with the mattress on the roof of the car. Robbie holding it down with one hand.

James stopped next to the skip and hopped easily out of the car. Robbie looked around, hoping no one was looking from their windows.

"Any chance of a hand? Come on."

Robbie opened his door, still looking around guiltily.

James waited till Robbie was at the other end of the mattress, "One, two, three."

They heaved together, grunting with the effort. But managed to send the mattress flying into the skip. A dog started barking in the distance, Robbie panicked, headed for his car door. "Now can we just get out of here?"

A resident of one of the buildings turned on a light, yelling at them from the window. Robbie ducked his head, trying to hide his face. James pulled away, tires squealing against the damp street.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into that."

James howled, enjoying the experience. "Call of the wild, sir."

They both laughed, the amusement of the moment catching up with them. Robbie sighed, "Don't know how long we've kept that mattress."

James looked away. It suddenly dawned on him the full meaning of Robbie's words.

"You chuck this stuff out and catch yourself thinking 'Is that it'? Is that the last bit of my marriage gone?" James looked over at him, "No more taps on the shoulder. Still…stuff the stuff we keep."

James watched him get out of the car, unable to find words to comfort the older man. As Robbie closed the door, he smiled to himself. "Good night, sir."

* * *

The case was over; it had ended with a bang. He didn't envy the family having to put all of the pieces back together but somehow he felt certain they would. He wasn't as certain he would be able to do the same.

A small piece of him was certain Oswald Cooper was sending him a message. It hadn't been some vain attempt to throw him off the scent. The man had something, he just had to find it. Lifting the key from his drawer, he left the station. He was on autopilot as he drove. He wouldn't rest until he found it, whatever it was.

* * *

He'd been here an hour, digging through the files, staring at the walls, searching for some hint, some clue. There was one file with a copy of the paper with the article about Val. There were other articles, follow-ups to the original story. A number was on the file. He used the number to find a file on the computer, certain there was something.

Hours later, he was cross-legged on the floors. Files strewn all across the floor. He'd never felt so defeated. It was here, he knew it and he couldn't find it.

"Sir?"

He started at James' voice, "I'm just taking a breather."

"Any luck?"

Sighing, he shook his head. "I know what you're thinking. But you're wrong. He left something." Getting to his knees, he started shuffling papers together. "He left something for me to find, or else, why send me that letter?"

"Sir, let it go." James stood, "We've been through every shred of paper. Every word, every file, every photo."

"Then we'll keep looking!"

James raised his voice, "No. I'm not gonna stand by and watch you doing this to yourself. You know I'm not. There is nothing here about your wife! Let it go!"

He turned to James, "How can I? It's in my head now."

James turned to leave then stopped. He removed his jacket, tossing it onto the desk. Squatting next to Robbie, he helped him pick up files. Softly, he spoke to Robbie, "She wouldn't want this, sir. I know I didn't know her. But I can't imagine anyone who loved you and was loved by you as deeply as you loved her would have wanted this." When Robbie dropped the files, James gently touched his shoulder. "Let me take you home, sir. I'll cover with Innocent, say your back is worse. You need some sleep."

"I'm never going to find the bastard who did this. Never get any peace."

"It's not my place but you've had a rough week. Getting rid of the mattress, hurting your back. You need rest. Let me take you home."

Robbie lifted his head, his eyes met James'. The raw pain there almost set James back on his heels. "There's nothing here, is there?"

"No sir, if there was, we would have found it."

Closing his eyes, he breathed in deeply. "Take me home, James."

* * *

James helped him through the door, Robbie was almost staggering. Val stood, hearing the commotion. Concern wracked her features.

"Sir, why don't you take a shower? I'll fix you something to eat."

"I'm not sure what I have."

"I'll scrounge up something. Go on, sir."

She watched the two men, not sure what to do. Robbie moved listlessly to the bedroom. She could feel the pain rolling off him in waves. Her heart broke watching him. Hearing the water start, she turned her attention back to James.

He was moving around the kitchen, pulling things from the refrigerator. Quickly he'd put together the ingredients for an omelet. His movements were economical. There was something mesmerizing and soothing in watching him.

Just as he was flipping the omelet, expertly, onto a plate Robbie joined him. He was still toweling his hair, clothed in a t-shirt and pajama bottoms.

"Something smells good, James."

Setting the plate in front of Robbie, he smiled. "It's just an omelet, sir. Nothing too heavy but it'll help you sleep."

Picking up the fork, he smiled up at James. "Thank you, James."

"It's an honor, sir."

* * *

James stayed until Robbie had eaten. He washed the few dishes, leaving them on the rack to dry. Then he left, making Robbie promise he wouldn't come into the station that day. Val followed him to the door, reaching out to touch his shoulder. She whispered softly as she did, "Thank you, son."

She heard Robbie fall, heavily, into the bed. His grumbled words floated through the air, "Damn mattress."

She went to him, sliding into bed next to him. "What's wrong with the mattress, love?"

"It's not ours. It was the last thing I had that was ours. Throwing it away was like throwing away a piece of us."

Suddenly, it all made sense. His pain, the way this case had impacted him. Reaching out, she brushed the damp lock from his forehead. "I don't live in the things we possessed. I live in your memories." She dropped her hand to cover his heart, "And in here. And I always will. As long as you and the kids can remember me a part of me is alive and well."

"What happens when I can't remember?"

"The memories might soften, go a bit fuzzy around the edges but they will always be there."

"I love you, Val."

"And I love you. Always have, always will. Now sleep, my love. I'll be here when you wake."

Closing his eyes, he covered the place on his chest where her hand rested. He squeezed at his shirt, thinking it was her hand. Within seconds, he slept.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

"Are you certain she's really married? I mean have you ever met Mr. Innocent?"

Looking in the mirror, he continued tying his tie. "There are a fair few bets around the station about just that."

She smiled, "Really, what are the bets?"

"Not married and/or divorced but using a husband to keep the perverts away, gay and inventing a husband so no one knows and there is one theory that Mr. Innocent is a cat."

"And where's your money?"

"I think she's married but keeps her private life private. She tells me stories when we go to these things. I don't care how good she might be; no one makes up that much detail."

"Out of curiosity, why you?"

He turned to her, smiling, "Am I not handsome enough for her?"

"I happen to find you quite handsome. But you do seem to go to a lot of these things."

"I suspect she knows I'm safe. Not likely to make a move on her or cause a scene. Even if she does think I am often guilty of chippy copper antics."

"Chippy copper antics? Funny, I don't remember those moves."

Nodding at her, "That's because you asked me out. I never had to use my chippy copper antics on you."

Her laughter filled the room, made him smile at the bright clarity of it. "I had to ask you out. If I'd waited on you I'd still be waiting."

He shook his head, "No, I'd have eventually worked up the nerve. Just taking my time."

"It doesn't matter, all worked out in the end."

He paused, a momentary touch of sadness filled him. "You're sure our Lyn likes this guy, the author?"

She nodded, proud of him for pushing the pain way so easily. "Absolutely, best birthday present you could give her. Besides a visit up to see her."

* * *

"Ginny, this is Robert."

He held out his hand, shaking the woman's hand, "Ginny."

The woman smiled, "I've heard a lot about you."

He cut his eyes towards Innocent, "All good, I hope?"

"Glowing. Are you a Dorian Crane fan?"

Looking away, he smiled, "Uh, my daughter rates him. It's not my cup of tea, all that historical fantasy stuff. Not a patch on Dan Dare." Innocent smiled at her friend as Robbie continued, "Where do you fit in?"

Ginny laughed, looking down. Innocent filled the gap, "Ginny's Dorian's mother."

Robbie lack and forth between them. His eyes closed in embarrassment, "Oh, I'm sorry."

The two woman laughed as Innocent explained. "She got us in. We were students together."

Robbie tried to explain, "It wasn't that, I'm not…"

Reaching out to touch his arm, Ginny smiled. "It's fine."

"Dorian dedicated his first book to Ginny."

"I'm very lucky."

The subject of their conversation interrupted, kissing his mother on the cheek. "You said you weren't coming."

She shook her head, "I'm not, I'm going. I just brought Jean and Robert along." Meeting Robbie's eye, "I've got a parents meeting."

Dorian leaned in, kissing Jean's cheek. "How are you, Jean?"

Turning to her son, Ginny asked, "Where's your muse?"

"She should be here by now."

As the author was introduced and started reading from his book, Robbie let his mind wander. He'd been under the belief this event was an obligation for Innocent. Now he had the distinct feeling of being set up.

* * *

Robbie jogged across the bridge, annoyed he was late to the scene. There was already a tent set up and divers in the river. He could feel Dr. Hobson's eyes on him as he closed the distance.

She walked toward him, shouting out a greeting. "Morning." Pointing toward the tent, "Loitering within tent."

He groaned at her joke, looking at James, "Where does she get them?"

"Beano, dandy?"

Laura gave James a scathing look as Robbie exhaled loudly. "You don't read comics."

Looking into the distance, "I used to look over the rough boys' shoulders, sir."

Robbie rolled his eyes as he stepped into the tent. It was wonder the boy wonder and Dr. Hobson weren't better friends.

He stepped closer to the evidence table as James started running through the case. "Marina Hartner, born 1985. It's her medical card. 5 Felton Road."

Robbie looked up from the evidence, "Cowley. From here she could have been on her way into town or back home."

"Oh, probably home. She was found by a rider around dawn who says she saw her yesterday afternoon probably going into town."

"Same clothes?"

James nodded, "And alone."

Looking over the evidence, Robbie was puzzled by what was missing. "No phone? She'd have had a phone."

"They're doing a fingertip search of the riverbed."

He picked up the evidence bag with the perfume bottle. "Mystique Noir." Holding the bag to his nose, he inhaled deeply. "Arm and a leg, that stuff." Robbie paused, "Lyn bought some for Val the Christmas before we lost her."

Laura was standing only a few feet away, heard the pain in his voice. As he walked away, escaping to the river's edge, she nodded at James. Following him, she stood beside him, knew she needed to distract him, get his brain thinking about anything else.

The diver was surfacing, holding the mirror up high. It was the perfect distraction. Turning back to him, she waited until he looked down at her. "So smash it down over her head, and pull back unrelenting and side to side so the jagged glass saws through her neck. She resists and cuts her hands trying to save herself."

His pain receded, he smiled down at her gratefully. As gruesome as her description had been, it had done the job. "Thanks."

She nodded, holding his gaze as he looked down at her. "Postmortem results as soon as I can."

* * *

They were asking the young woman behind the bar questions. Hadn't identified who they were just yet. She was smarter than they expected and volleyed a question back to them. "You're not immigration?"

James pretended he was offended, "Certainly not, Kelly, better suits."

Cutting her eyes at Robbie, she smiled. "Yours, maybe."

Robbie looked down at his suit trying to understand what was wrong with it. "Is there a problem with Marina's work status, then?"

"She gets edgy if it comes up. She in trouble?"

"What time did she leave last night?"

"Early. Uh, 9:00."

"She say where she was going?"

"She never does, really."

"Does she have a boyfriend?"

"Not that she's told me." Looking at James, "But I'd be surprised if there wasn't someone." Robbie's mobile rang, "She gets a lot of attention."

James continued the questioning, "From the customers?"

"All the time."

"Anyone in particular?"

Robbie walked away, talking to someone on his mobile. Kelly shook her head, "Just general."

"Do you know any of them by name? An Edward or a Ned?" Kelly shook her head. "Did she ever mention those names?"

Still shaking her head, "No."

"Have you got her mobile number, Kelly?"

"I've only got the payphone at her place."

As Robbie returned, James thanked the woman and stepped away from the bar. They walked out together. They were only a few steps down the road when Robbie had to ask.

"Is there something wrong with my suit?"

"No, your suit's perfectly serviceable, sir, I'd say."

Hearing the sarcasm, "Oh, thanks."

"New tie, maybe."

"I'll put it on my Christmas list. Start saving."

* * *

As they were rounding the corner, they bumped into Ginny. She smiled at Robbie, "Hello again.

Robbie smiled broadly, "Ginny." He looked over at James, wrestling to remove his mobile from his pocket. "This is my colleague, James Hathaway."

She nodded at James, "Oh, hi."

Answering his mobile, he nodded at her. "Excuse me."

As James walked away, Robbie turned back to her. "So how was your parents meeting?"

"Uh, must do better. Them, not me."

He laughed at her joke, unaware he was being watched by James. "What age do you teach?"

"Little ones. They're not so much trouble, in theory."

"Ugh, tell me about it. And I only had two of them."

She sighed, "Have you been to see Dorian?"

He shook his head, "No, why?"

"Oh, I just assumed. His room's just there."

He looked in the direction she pointed, "Yeah, I noticed his name."

"Well, nice to see you."

Smiling widely, "You too, bye."

"Bye."

He watched her walk away as James rejoined him, a cheeky smirk on his face. "No joy on the next of kin for Marina."

"Well I want her positively identified before we release her name."

"What about Kelly from The Grapevine?"

"No, give her a break. What was Marina's doctor's name on her medical card?"

"Dr. Jem Wishart." Looking over Robbie's shoulder, in the direction Ginny was walking, "Who's that?"

"Just someone I met." Robbie walked away with James following, smiling to himself.

* * *

Innocent joined them as they were watching the CCTV footage, "Progress?"

Robbie nodded, turning to her. "Getting there."

At his look, she explained, "Girl's night out with, um, Ginny and a couple of other's from university days."

"Very nice, ma'am."

Smiling at his compliment, "Thank you." Watching the screen, she tried to nonchalantly talk about her friend. "She's lovely, Ginny, don't you think?"

James smiled, casting a glance at Robbie. Robbie looked at James, "Seems very pleasant. Yes, ma'am."

Innocent continued, "Separated."

Before Robbie could respond, the dead girl was spotted on the footage.

* * *

He paced his flat, chatting with his daughter. Running his hand over the book, he teased her. "I've got a great birthday present for you."

"Really? Better than last year's electric toothbrush?"

"Uh, wait and see."

"Are you up to anything, besides work?"

"No, nothing much. Just catching up on work, you know?"

"Still missing, mum?"

"Yeah, of course I do, love. I think of her all the time." He opened a drawer on the table where the television sat. Inside were a handful of items belonging to Val. "Oh, just out of the blue, you know." He lifted the bottle of perfume, sniffing at it. "I don't have to try." There was an awkward pause and he inhaled deeply. "Anyway…"

"Dad, she wouldn't want you to be unhappy."

"Yeah…"

"I love you, dad."

"You, too, love." He smiled down at the bottle. "Sleep tight, Lyn."

He disconnected the call, staring down at Val's picture. Placing the bottle back in the drawer, he pushed it closed.

"I never did like that scarf."

"You wore it all the time."

She smiled as he turned to her, "Because you loved it. I liked making you happy."

"Are you OK?"

"The perfume."

She nodded, "I know."

"I am better, really I am, then something like this…"

"And it all comes back."

"Yeah."

* * *

Innocent entered his office, happy to find him alone. It wasn't an accident; she'd been pacing for some time looking for her opportunity.

"We still haven't got a hold of Alice. She's lost her phone according to her dad. But she's going to be at The Eagle and Child later for Dorian's appearance, so Hathaway's waiting for her." Reaching around he grabbed his jacket, "I'm supposed to meet him there."

"Good." She looked down at her shoes, "Robert, why not come to dinner one night?"

He was a bit surprised but realized it might be nice to get out of the house. "Why not, ma'am? Thank you."

"I could ask Ginny." He tried to control his expression as Innocent leaned over. "I'll give you her number, so you can, uh, liaise directly about available dates."

He took the offered piece of paper, "I'll give her a ring."

Smiling and raising her eyebrows at him, she turned to leave. "Good."

Looking down at the number, he knew he had to call. With his luck Innocent would have told the woman to expect the call. He pulled out his mobile and dialed the number.

"Hello?"

"Ginny?"

"Speaking."

"Hi. It's…it's Robert Lewis. Robbie."

"Oh, hello."

"Hi. Um, Superintendent Innocent gave me your number. She wants to invite us for dinner."

Ginny laughed, "Ah, I thought she might. Uh, look, I don't mean to be rude…"

Robbie interrupted, "Ginny, I think you're very nice, but I'm really not ready for…"

"I don't think that we…"

They both laughed, realizing they are saying the same thing. Robbie added, "Although, I can see why she thinks it might have been…"

"A viable project? Well, that's Jean, she's, um…all head and no heart sometimes." The doorbell rang in the background and she looked toward the door, "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm going to have to go. There's…there's someone at the door. Bye."

"Bye, then." He ended the call sighing a breath of relief.

* * *

The PC marched Ginny through the yard towards a patrol car. She stared at Robbie and James as she walked past.

Innocent followed behind, touching Robbie on the arm as she approached. "I wish I could say good result."

"Ma'am."

They watched her walk away, each feeling the depth of her pain. Somehow, it made her more human. James looked up at the sky something smug in his expression.

"You're dying to tell me something, aren't you?"

"That quote about the heart and the head, Lewis, C.S."

"It would be."

"Do you know what one of The Inklings is meant to have said when Tolkien started reading them Lord of the Rings?"

"Oh, spare, me, Sergeant. I've had enough of imaginary worlds."

"You'll like it, sir, I promise."

Nodding, "Go on, then."

"They said, 'Not more flipping elves!'" Turning to meet Robbie's gaze, "Except that he didn't say flipping."

"Hmm." Robbie chuckled, "I like it." He strode to the car, feeling lighter than he had in days. Opening the door, he glanced across the car, "Home, James."

* * *

He was alone, no television, no music, just him and the silence of his flat. His brain was running wild, all of the details of the case running through a loop in his brain like some perverted film. But he found the case had distracted him from the pain. Allowed him to put it into perspective and move past it.

He supposed it was progress, something to be proud of. His stomach rumbled stopping the thoughts, turning them instead to what he could have for supper. Just as he pushed up from the sofa, there was a knock at the door.

His immediate thought was it was probably James, coming by to distract him. He walked across the flat, opening the door without even looking to see who it was.

Rather than finding James, he found a casually dressed Laura Hobson. She was holding some type of dish and was smiling up at him.

"I heard about your case. Thought you might like some comfort food." At his quizzical expression, "Lasagna."

"I like lasagna."

She shrugged, "Well what's not to like?" She handed it to him. "It's still warm. But you can heat it in the microwave if you need."

He took the dish, "Would you like to join me?" Motioning over his shoulder, "I think I have a bottle of wine."

"Are you sure? I don't want to intrude."

He shook his head, "You're not intruding at all. I'd like the company."

They worked together. Laura fixing plates, Robbie opening wine. After sitting at the table, Robbie held up his glass, "To comfort food."

They ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes when Robbie moaned. "Are you OK?"

He nodded, wiping his mouth. "Dr. Hobson, I think this might be the best thing I've eaten in a long time."

"Thank you." She took a sip of her wine, watching him over the edge of the glass. "Do you suppose we could drop the formalities? At least when we aren't in the office."

He nodded, "Why not at work as well? We have known each other a long time, been colleagues…" He paused, then more tentatively, "Friends."

"I'd like that."

They went back to eating. Eventually, Laura started giggling. Robbie looked at her, "What?"

"Did Innocent really try to set you up with your killer?"

He looked down, sheepishly, "Yeah, she did."

"Is this the second or third killer who's had an interest in you?"

He spluttered, "How did you…"

"Hathaway…"

"Nosy git."

"So, which is it?"

He sat back in his seat, smiling at her knowingly. "She wasn't interested in me. Turned me down."

Laura exploded with laughter, "It must be a sad dating pool when a murderer turns you down."

He stared at her for a moment, then laughter started bubbling out of him. "You're right. I mean if you can't get a murderer to go out with you, you must really be a lost cause."

They laughed for a moment longer, eyes catching as the it faded. Laura smiled, "I don't think you're a lost cause" Shrugging, "But maybe open up the dating pool to beyond your murder investigations in the future."

He nodded at her, smiling. "Seems like wise advice."

"It's getting late. I have an early post."

"Let me clean out your casserole dish."

She shook her head, "No, just return it when you finish." She stood, "You know, protocol says you should return it with something in it."

He laughed, "You might not want to risk that. I haven't quite made it casserole yet."

"You cook?"

He nodded, a fond smile spreading across his face. "Yeah, I've been having some lessons. But just simple things."

She smiled at him, a twinkle lighting her eye. "I like simple things."

"Good to know, Dr…Laura."

Motioning her head to the door, "I'll let myself out. See you tomorrow?"

He watched her walk away, nodding at her question. As her hand circled the door knob, he called out. "Laura." She paused, turning back to him. "What are you doing on Saturday?"

She shook her head, "Normal weekend stuff, cleaning, errands. Why?"

He looked down, somewhat embarrassed about what he was about to ask. "It's just one of the people we interviewed…she commented on my suit. Then James made a non comment about my suit." He looked up, met her even gaze. "Anyway, it's been a long time since I bought new suits. It might be nice to have some company, you know, a second opinion."

"I always have an opinion."

"So, is that a yes?"

"Yes, but only if you let me buy you lunch afterwards."

"That'll be two meals I owe you."

Flicking her eyebrows up, she opened the door. "I suspect your good for it…Robbie."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

He pulled the old flowers from the pot, replacing them with the newer, more colorful ones. They weren't special flowers; she hadn't been that picky. Any old flower would do.

"Happy birthday, bonny lass."

He stared at the grave for a moment longer. He wasn't sure why he still came here. She had never appeared to him here. He probably should have just brought flowers home, kept them in a vase there. Standing he stared out at the water, perhaps he would do that as well.

* * *

"Single stab wound to the heart."

"With?"

She looked at him, trying to determine if he was joking. "A very sharp knife. According to the 12-year old stage manager, it's the one they used in the play."

He looked at her, socked. "They use a real knife?"

"Well, only to threaten. Nobody gets murdered." She paused for a moment, "It's The Merchant of Venice."

He met her odd look, "That's the one with the pound of flesh?"

Fighting a smile, she nodded, "Uh-huh."

Smugly, he nodded, "Got it."

She took a half step closer, whispering, "You can pretend not to know all of this, but you don't fool me."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Dr. Hobson." He smiled slyly, "Laura."

She laughed, "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me."

* * *

Robbie looked at James' drink, "What is that?"

James studied the glass, "Tonic water on the rocks with a slice of lemon."

"Tonic water?"

"Hmm, I'm detoxing. And tonic water on the rocks is one of the preferred drinks of recovering alcoholics. Plus, it gives one a sort of spurious glamour."

"I'll bear that in mind, in case I ever need any spurious glamour."

"Mr. Lewis, good to see you again."

Robbie took the man's hand, "And you."

Pointing at the third chair, "May I?"

"Of course." Motioning toward James, "This is my sergeant, James Hathaway."

"Graham Wilkinson."

"Are you still second in command here?"

"Yes. Waiting patiently for the big job."

James watched the man carefully, "I know the feeling."

"I was wondering whether I could pick your brains."

Robbie lifted his glass in a silent toast, "If you can find them. It's been a long day."

"We might have been the victims of a scam."

"What sort of scam?"

"A man leaves his luggage with a porter, says it's to be collected later. While he's away a woman claiming to be his wife turns up, does a sort of scatty woman performance, says hubby's been called away on business and he's got the ticket and can she collect the cases for him? About an hour later, the man turns up, denies having a wife and generally hits the roof."

Robbie pursed his lips, "It could all be true."

"Except I've heard of two or three similar cases on the grapevine. You report it to the police, and the victim, so called, files a claim for the contents of the cases and the hotel's insurances pays him off."

James asks the obvious question, "How much money are we talking about?"

"Three, four thousand pounds."

Robbie nodded, "Does he have a name this man?"

Graham nodded, "Simon Monkford." He pulled some papers from his inside pocket, "Those are his contact details."

James reached for the papers, "I know Simon Monkford."

"You do?"

"Is he mid-40s? Well-dressed?"

"Yes."

"He was at the theatre this afternoon. He gave me his ticket."

"Very nice of him."

"No, he gave me his ticket and said, 'That's my alibi.' It was almost as if… Well, not the first time in his life he'd needed an alibi."

* * *

They were climbing the stairs, Robbie looked over his shoulder at James. "The Royal Canadian Mounted Police?"

"Yeah, about Simon Monkford."

"He of the suitcase?"

"He's got a record as long as your arm and he spent five years on the run in Toronto, so I thought it might be worth checking."

"We've got a double murder on our hands and you're messing about with some two-bit con man."

"Yeah, but I feel there's something more…by the pricking of my thumbs."

"Don't tell me Shakespeare?"

"Bravo."

Shaking his head, "I'm getting sick of bloody Shakespeare."

* * *

She let him in, a somewhat resigned look on her face as she invited him in. He followed her into the house, instantly peppering her with questions.

"Five years ago your brother went to Canada."

She nodded, "Yes."

"He says he was on the run."

"Well, he's been on the run all his life."

"Canada's a long way to run; he could have come here."

She took a deep breath, then sat. "He…he had some sort of breakdown."

"A nervous breakdown?"

"Are they still called that? Or is it post-traumatic stress? Anyway, it was something like that."

"So there was a trauma?"

She nodded, "He was a bit vague about it, but it was some sort of car accident. He was driving and I think he might have hit somebody. That made it worse, because he was proud of his driving. Wanted to drive racing cars for a living at one point."

"Where did this happen?"

"In London. Somewhere in the West End, I think."

James paused, "Do you remember the date?"

Nodding, "Oh yes, easily. It was my birthday. December 19th. The phone rang and I heard his voice and I assumed it was a happy birthday call, but then it was obvious something was wrong."

James turned back to her, cutting her off. "Sorry, thank you very much, you've been very helpful." He left without another word. The knowledge of what he'd learned spinning in his head.

* * *

Robbie answered the phone, "Inspector Lewis." He listened to the man on the other end. "Yes, he's here. All right, hang on." Looking across the office at James, Metropolitan Police want a word."

Fear gripped at James as he looked across the office at Robbie. He answered the phone, "Hi." He listened as the other man spoke, "Did you find out anything?"

He glanced at Robbie, trying to formulate the vaguest words he could. "Well, it's the answer I expected. I'm just not sure whether it's the answer I wanted. Thank you."

"What's all that about?"

Not able to look at Robbie, "Simon Monkford, con man, the early years."

"Is that all?"

Finally, he looked up, "Yeah, for now. There are complications."

* * *

James entered the room, a sense of dread filling him. Simon Monkford looked up, smiling unctuously. "Afternoon."

Closing the door behind the PC, not wanting anyone else to hear. He stuck his hands in his pockets, "Five years ago, on December the 19th, you were driving a car along Oxford Street in London. The car was being used as a getaway vehicle following a robbery on the premises of a building society. The car did indeed get away, but not before it mounted the pavement, hitting a woman, who died later." James paused, letting his words sink in. "It was you driving, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

"Did you ever wonder about the identity of the woman that you killed?"

Shaking his head, "Honest answer, no, I didn't. Maybe I thought it would be easier for me to deal with if she remained anonymous."

Turning to the door, "Well, her name was Mrs. Valerie Lewis and she was married to Inspector Robert Lewis, my boss. So maybe you'd like to deal with that."

He left the room, walking angrily through the station. He was angry about a crime which had occurred before he'd ever considered becoming a police office. A murder of a woman he didn't even know. But the anger was real, none the less.

Tapping once on the office door, he opened it, stepping inside. Motioning with his head, toward the second closed door, "I need to see her."

The woman stood, knocked on the closed door and they both heard the voice beckon. "Come in."

Seeing James, Innocent smiled, "Oh, what's this? Hot news from High Wycombe?"

"In a sense, yes. I need to ask your advice."

"Isn't that Inspector Lewis's responsibility?"

"It's about Inspector Lewis."

Looking up, she motioned to the chair opposite her. "Tell me."

He moved the chair, centering it in front of her desk, then sat. "Simon Monkford, the con man that we have in custody, he was driving the car that killed Mrs. Lewis."

Surprise overwhelmed Innocent, "Oh my God." She took a deep breath, "You're absolutely sure about this?"

"Mm-hmm."

Exhaling deeply, "Well the only legal question is whether it's murder or manslaughter."

Shaking his head, "That's not the only question. The question is should I tell him when he's halfway through a murder inquiry?"

"Why not?"

"Well, the last time I mention his wife, he jumped down my throat. He's made it very clear that his marriage is a total no-go area; he doesn't talk to anybody about it."

"Well I think it all depends on the state of your personal and professional relationship with him."

"Mmm."

"Are you not sure what that is?"

James shook his head, "Well not always, no."

"Why is that, do you think?"

Pausing, he cocked his head to one side, "Well, he's a lovely guy. Everyone likes him. He's just very private, and you get the feeling there's a lot going on in his head which he doesn't want to share."

She nodded, "And you're not exactly a breezy extrovert, are you?"

Slightly annoyed with her tone, "No."

"Maybe the two of you should join some encounter group and get in touch with your true feelings." James was horrified at her suggestion. "That was a joke." James exhaled as she continued, "Serious answer…There's only one reliable way to find out about any relationship: test it to destruction."

James pulled his ringing mobile from his pocket, "Oh it's him."

"Could be your moment."

* * *

James grew increasingly more uncomfortable as they walked along, Robbie hypothesizing about the case. When Robbie turned to him for an opinion, he found he couldn't hold back any longer.

"Sir, there's something else you need to know."

"Sounds exciting. You're not getting married?"

"No, sir, it's about Simon Monkford."

"What about him?"

He told him, didn't mince words. Anger stormed across Robbie's face. Without another word, he turned all but running from the building. They were halfway to the car before he finally spoke.

"How long have you know?"

"Since the call from the Met."

"Is that what that was?"

"The final confirmation, date, place and time."

Robbie's voice escalated, "Why the hell didn't you tell me then?"

"Because the last time I mentioned your wife you made it very clear to me that I wasn't to mention the subject again."

Anger seethed from Robbie, "This is different. This is purely professional."

"How can that be?"

Turning back to James, "What were you frightened of? That I might go barging into the interview room and batter the living daylights out of the man?"

"I think I'd be tempted under the circumstances."

Walking away, "Well, maybe I'd be tempted too. But it wouldn't happen. Shall I tell you why?"

"Why?"

"Because you're a good cop and you'd stop me. As it is, all you've proved is you don't really know me, and you don't know yourself, either."

James looked away, Robbie's words cutting too close to home.

* * *

They drove back in increasingly sullen silence. As they rounded the corner to their office, James finally broke the silence. "Do you want to speak to him?"

"No, I just want to look at him."

James opened the door, leading Robbie into the observation room. Robbie gaped at the man. This ordinary, somewhat mousy looking man who had destroyed his life. "That's him?"

"Hm-hmm."

"I don't know what I expected to see. He's so bloody ordinary. She deserved better." He stared for a moment longer then inhaled deeply, "Come on, let's do some proper work."

* * *

He walked down the hall. His brain torn between the reality of the case and the heartbreak of finally knowing who is wife's killer was. It was taking everything in him to put one foot in front of the other.

Despite it all, he wasn't surprised when Innocent "bumped" into him. "Oh, Robbie, um…did he tell you about Monkford?"

Looking around, not wanting his personal business spread any further around the station. "Eventually. Did you know all the time?"

She shook her head, "He consulted me about whether to tell you and when."

Taking a sip of his water, "That was thoughtful."

"So, you two still friends?"

"Interesting question. We're colleagues. Workmates, they'd say in the Northeast. We don't swap comics every week and he listens to weird music, but he's a damn good cop. He's just a bit young and I suppose enigmatic. He's private, you know?"

Watching him walk away, "He says much the same about you."

Robbie turned back to her, "Well, that's ridiculous. There's nothing enigmatic about me."

"So, tell me honestly, are you okay?"

"Honest answer, I don't know." He chucked his cup into the bin, "So I'll just throw myself into my work and see if that makes it okay.

* * *

They sat in the courtroom, listened as Simon Monkford pled guilty. The judge passed sentence and just like that it was all over. Val's killer was found, sentenced to prison. A quest he hadn't even known he was on was complete.

He'd been surprised when James had shown up outside the courtyard that morning. But he hadn't questioned the gesture. Had simply nodded his head and smiled as the younger man fell into step beside him.

As they walked out, it finally occurred to him the debt of gratitude he owed James. If not for his extraordinary instinct Simon Monkford would have walked away, again. James had done what the Met hadn't been able to do, what he'd been unable to do. He found justice for Val.

"Thank you for coming with me."

Touching Robbie lightly on the back, "That's okay."

As they crossed the street, James looked back. "Can I buy you a pint, sir?"

Robbie shook his head, "Not today, Jim. I have something I need to do."

James nodded, couldn't hide the sense of hurt at the rejection. "I understand, sir."

"Jim, I'm not angry. I'm grateful. But right now, I need to call my kids. Tell them the news."

"Of course, sir."

"And I'm going to tell them all about my impressive sergeant who solved the case."

James smiled, looking away from Robbie. "No need, sir. I expect they will be happy just to hear the news."

"Yes, it is necessary. They need to know who gave us closure. Maybe now, we can all start to heal." Robbie's hand dropped onto James' shoulder, squeezing firmly. "Thank you, son."

James inhaled deeply, looked up to stop the tears threatening. As he exhaled, he met Robbie's gentle gaze. The only words going through his mind were thank you. What came out of his mouth was a simple, "You're welcome, sir."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Everyone was laughing, drinks were flowing. For a work function, it was a rather enjoyable experience. Something he'd found himself doing more of lately, enjoying himself. Since James found the man responsible for Val's death, he seemed to be lighter, laughed more.

Even the idea of a dinner with work colleagues, Innocent included, hadn't quelled his joy. He licked his fingers, caught Laura looking at him, an amused and mischievous grin lighting her face. "What?"

Looking down at the bread, "I see you're on a pull tonight."

"Every man has his weakness."

Smirking she recited a list of better weakness, "Yeah, fast cars, single malts, nurses with starched white cotton but garlic bread?"

Looking over at James, he returned her teasing banter, "And she calls herself a woman of the world."

Their eyes met, held for a moment. She really was rather lovely in this light. No, she really was lovely, full stop. A jolt of something he couldn't quite place, electrified his body. It was suddenly a lot warmer in the room.

Innocent tapping her glass, ended the moment. She yammered on about a promotion someone was getting. Robbie was only half listening, thinking about the moment with Laura. It wasn't until Innocent said, "Inspector Fiona McKendrick" that he was able to push the thoughts away.

* * *

They were staring at the painting, the same one from the postcard in Steven Mullan's flat. James was bored, certain it was a waste of time. Robbie couldn't look away from the painting, pointing out different aspects.

They bickered, good naturedly about the painting. "Don't pretend you didn't get that out of the book." James snickered, not ashamed to have been caught out. "Anyway, there has to be more to it than that."

An attractive older woman, close to Robbie's own age, approached them, listening to their banter. "There is. You're quite right." Ignoring James, she turned to Robbie. "In Renaissance terms, the hunt was a courtly metaphor for the pursuit of love. The hunter, the male rampant. The hind, or deer, the defenseless female. But in the game of desire, the chase is so much more uncertain. Is the deer fleeing for her life, or leading her lover away, deeper into danger? The hunter doesn't know. That's the point. But he can't stop himself, He's swept on into the forest to some point of pleasure out there in the darkness." She raised her hands, shaking her head. "Sorry. Forgive me. I…"

Robbie smiled, pointing at the painting. "No, no. Not at all."

"It's our most treasured canvas." Looking over her shoulder to James, "By members of the public, not just old show-offs like myself. "

James snickered, not just from her words but from her behavior toward Robbie and his response to it.

Holding out the post card, Robbie pointed to the writing on the back of it. "Does this mean anything to you?"

She took the car, reading out loud, "'It was no dream.' Thomas Wyatt."

Robbie looked over her head to James, "Right, who is?"

"'They Flee From Me That Sometime Did Seek Me.' And regretfully, I must do the same." She handed the card back to Robbie, then took a few steps away. Turning back to them, she smiled. "You'll find all you need in our shop."

James nodded, "Thank you."

"Frances Wheeler."

* * *

He'd looked down at the display on his phone, surprised to see Laura's name. "Hello, have you called to give me all the answers of this case."

Her laughter softly caressed him, "No, not today. I am, however, calling to apologize and offer to take a walk. Get you away from the flames."

"Ten minutes?"

"I'll meet you out front."

She was waiting when he walked outside. It was odd to see her not in scrubs or a scene suit. "You're a little over dressed for a crime scene or an autopsy."

"I'm in court later today." They fell into step, "Have you figure it all out yet?"

"Not even close. Took a bit of a bollocking."

"Innocent on cracking form, I gather."

"Poor Soul. She's been pining ever since her precious Fiona made rank."

Laura smiled up at him, "The young protégé." Tapping his shoulder lightly, "You used to be one of those."

"Not in that way I wasn't."

They stared at each other, a light smile playing at the edges of her pretty mouth. Walking for a few seconds, she'd asked him a question he didn't expect. "Attractive, McKendrick?"

"Who am I to judge?"

"Ah, come on. Marks out of ten. A crudely biological eight? A traffic-stopping nine?"

Unsure where her question was coming from, "What is this?"

She looked away, "The illegal trade in hunch and hearsay. It's called gossip."

Shrugging, "I'd give her a seven."

Her nose crinkled up as she looked at him incredulously, "Would you? Seven?"

"Objectively speaking, fair enough." He paused for a moment, looking down at her, "Not my type at all. Why do you ask?"

"Well the other night, when our leader announced McKendrick's promotion your long-faced sergeant…"

"He's always long-faced."

"An equine nine?"

He wasn't sure but he didn't like her rating James quite so high. "He's a free man, not a number. Anyway, Hathaway has his reasons. He sees his contemporaries rising through the ranks, and thinks 'Why not me'"

She laughed, he could hear the teasing in it. "When we came to say good-bye, do you remember? You and McKendrick air-kissing like a couple of tarts in an operetta? Garlic bread notwithstanding?"

He rolled his eyes, "I was just being polite, as I would with any seven."

"Yeah, but what did Hathaway do? Hug? Kiss? Mexican wave?"

He shook his head, still not understanding the point, "I don't know I…"

"Nothing. That's what. Two colleagues worked together for years. Absolutely no bodily contact. Now why would that be Detective?"

Looking down at her, her arm brushing against his, "He'd have told me. Wouldn't he?"

"Yes, because he's such a forthcoming guy in general."

"Hathaway and Fiona?" He shook his head, "Maybe they aren't a couple, maybe he just likes her?"

"Are you bothered that they might be a couple or that you didn't know?"

"I'm not bothered. Unconvinced, surprised maybe." They continued walking and somewhere in the back of his mind another emotion pushed forward, jealousy.

* * *

They walked away from the car, Robbie clicking the button to lock it. As they fell into step, side by side, Robbie finally asked. "How long? You and her?"

"Me and who?"

"Fiona. Oh, for pity's sake, man. How long have you fancied Fiona McKendrick?"

"Call a spade a shovel, why don't you?"

Laura was right, it was a relationship, not just an infatuation. "What, you two…?"

"For a while. Well, we were even trying to work out how on earth I was going to break up with you, sir." James smiled at Robbie, "You know what she's like…fast track and all of that. Office romance doesn't look too hot on the C.V., does it? So she went her way, and I got lumped with you."

* * *

He watched the younger woman, amazed at her poise as her fiancé had another tantrum. He smiled as she walked toward them. "Sorry to go on." Pointing toward the departing figure of her fiancé, "But is there really nothing you're not telling me? You and that art professor?"

"Oh, give me some credit, will you?"

"Daniel seems to have doubts."

She shook her head, "I wouldn't read too much into that. Just nerves, I guess. Big night."

Robbie nodded, looking around at all of the security men around. "I suppose these are here on your account?"

"Dad's, mostly. Ex-marines."

James interrupted, "Your father's here?"

"Private chopper from London. He should be here before nightfall for the big announcement. Introduce you, if you like. Maybe dad can persuade you to come work for us."

She walked away as Robbie chuckled. James stepped closer, "She's trying to tap you up."

"She made some passing remark. Just being kind. I was quite flattered, to be honest. You reach a point in life, you've got to conclude that basically you're invisible to beautiful women."

James nodded, "I know that feeling." They walked, "You're not though, sir." At Robbie's laugh, "Francis Wheeler, the docent from the museum."

"She was just doing her job."

"Dr. Hobson."

"We're just friends."

"You said you were invisible to beautiful women. Those are two very beautiful women and neither of them think you're invisible, sir."

* * *

They walked along discussing the last details of the case. James turned to head to the pub. Robbie stopped him, "No, here. This way."

"I thought we were going for a beer."

"Not yet. Got a little job for you first."

Falling into step beside Robbie, James groaned. "Oh, no, what are you up to?"

"What was that story Jessica Rattenbury told you? About the restorative justice program? Sitting in a car outside the prison her mum said, 'Go through that door, look the man in the eye. Otherwise, he'll be stuck in your head forevermore.'" James stopped walking, Robbie turned to him. "Look, I know your pride's taken a beating. But don't do what ifs. Go in there. Say goodbye properly."

"Inspector McKendrick left last night."

Robbie looked over to the dark flat, just as a light went on inside. Relief flooded through him, "Apparently not."

James sighed, "No, I can't."

"Of course you can, go on. Lay the ghost to rest." Pulling his wallet from his pocket, "Either that, or we feed you to Battleship Potempka. 80 quid, full body massage." Holding the money out to James, "Your call."

James snatched the money from his hand, shuffled through it. He kept some then handed the rest back to Robbie. "I'll have a pint." He smiled at Robbie then walked to Fiona's door.

Robbie watched for a few minutes longer, proud the lad had taken the chance. Turning away, he walked home.

* * *

The door creaked as he opened it, a smile cracking his face as he walked through the door. "Did you get your man?"

He nodded, pulling at his tie. "We did. I even played cupid."

"Cupid?"

He grabbed an apple from the bowl on the counter and took a bite. "The dishy sergeant has been involved in a relationship with a colleague."

"Really? And you discovered this how?"

"I didn't. Dr. Hobson noticed and told me."

"You can call her Laura. It doesn't bother me."

He nodded, smiling, "Laura told me."

"And how does that equate to you playing cupid?"

"She's been promoted. Leaves in the morning for London. He was just going to let her go, not say goodbye. I made him go see her."

"And?"

"They were kissing when I left. I think he'll be OK."

"And you, are you OK?"

He took a deep breath, "It's odd. I've sort of grown accustomed to be being invisible. To having women not notice me." He paused, not sure what to say next.

"But women have noticed you."

"So says Hathaway."

"Anyone I know?"

"According to James, a docent from the museum." He smiled, "And Laura."

"So, why are you here?"

Throwing away the apple, "I live here."

"I bet she's still at work."

He nodded, "Probably, but I'm at home. And you're here."

"Go play with the live girl, Robbie."

* * *

He was leaning against her car, debating going into the building. He'd decided this was a mistake when he heard his name. "Robbie."

"Hi."

"What are you doing here?"

He shrugged, "Waiting for you." At her quizzical look, he smiled. "You were right about Hathaway and Fiona. I dropped him at her place earlier. Then I went home."

"So how did you end up here?"

"Because I wanted to tell someone. And I realized you were the only person I really had to tell." He shook his head, "So the next thing I knew I was in my car, headed here."

"You do owe me a meal."

"Two, actually." He smiled, rubbing at his left eye, "Care to collect on one? I'll share in the illegal trade of hunch and hearsay."

"Gossip and food?" Smiling, she nodded lightly, "Yeah, I'd like that.

 **No chapter tomorrow. Life...**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

He jabbed the too large knife into the plastic sealing the frozen meal. A mindless, repetitive motion devoid of any emotion except perhaps melancholy. Opening the microwave, he shoved the meal in, turned the dial and waited.

Picking up the box, he read the back. For some reason, he missed Val. He'd woken thinking of her, a dream he couldn't quite recall. She hadn't been around in a few days he was beginning to wonder if she was gone. He wasn't ready and she'd promised to stay until he didn't need her any longer.

Sundays had always been a family day. Val would always cook a traditional meal and they would eat as a family. She had rarely drawn a line in the sand but Sunday dinners were one of her lines. He'd had more than one fight with Morse about running home to eat. They'd stopped when Val had suggested Morse join them.

He'd been certain Morse would balk at the idea. But more often than not, he would accompany Robbie. Not many people had known, Morse hadn't told anyone nor had Robbie. But the curmudgeonly Morse turned into quite the charmer around Val. She would even occasionally flirt back. It was hard to imagine he could miss those moments but, right now, with a frozen meal in the microwave, he missed them more than ever.

The microwave dinged and he pulled his sad meal from it. When his mobile rang, he was desperately grateful. He suspected this meal would have tasted like sadness. Dropping it into the bin, he picked up his mobile.

"It's Sunday."

"Sorry, sir, do I find you at prayer?"

"I'm not stirring on a Sunday for anything less than murder."

"Well, I've got a vicar who's a bit cross. Will that do?"

"Tell you what, sergeant, I'll stir for a cross vicar but you have to join me for a roast dinner at a pub."

"I can accept those terms."

* * *

The vicar was detailing all of the complaints he filed against his neighbor's. Robbie was beginning to get a headache and not just from hunger.

"…Just because the man's a ruddy pop star…"

"Have you actually spoken to Mr. MacKay about this?"

"Maguire. Richie Maguire." Robbie was lost, a name from his past. "No, can't get anywhere near the wretched man. That's why I called you."

He somehow fumbled through the remainder of the conversation with the vicar then joined James outside. He found James sitting on the fence, smoking. "Bow down before the Midnight Addiction."

James threw down the cigarette, "Absolutely. Well, I use the word absolutely in a purely private sense, meaning I have no idea what you're talking about."

Robbie looked at him, "Airplane. The Dead. The Addiction. Same breath." James shrugged, "The iconography of my youth. Richie, Esme, Franco, Mack."

"You're talking in tongues, sir."

Looking back at James as they walked, "Members of the band. They were stars, huge stars. I can't believe you." Another glance at James' smirk, "You're taking a mickey, aren't you?"

"Mm-hmm."

"I knew that."

James continued to smile as they walked to the car. He'd seen Robbie's album collection knew what a fan he was. It was the reason he'd called him out on a Sunday for something he well could have handled himself.

* * *

They walked out of the house, Robbie enlightening James of the band back in the day. "They were huge. Everything about them was huge. Concerts went on for hours. Richie on the drums and vocals, harmonizing with Esme. Little brother Mack on the bass. They fought like hell on stage. Real fisticuffs sometimes. Then Mack went off his rocker. Brain fried with acid. Esme flew off to Grenada and drowned herself. Never did find her body. Now we know why. But she left this terrible letter apologizing for everything, begging Richie to forgive her."

"They were lovers?"

He looked back at James, shrugging, "Who knows? Kept us guessing. There was certainly a fantastic chemistry between the two of them on stage. Mind you, she was pretty fantastic chemistry all on her own. Especially in a top hat."

James fought a smile, "We could nick the lot of them, you know. Pigeon may be vermin, 'man,' but Richie's still disturbing the peace. There was a shotgun in an umbrella stand, which does not constitute locked and fixed steel cabinet. Recreational drugs everywhere."

Nodding toward the house, a disbelieving tone in his voice, "Why would I want to nick them?"

"Give you an excuse to come back. Someone's got to look after your social life, sir."

Robbie scowled at him as he answered his mobile. As he disconnected the call, "My social life will have to wait. We actually have a body now."

"Don't think this is getting you out of the roast dinner, sir."

* * *

Laura met them next to the body, "It's not the prettiest corpse." Kneeling down, she flipped back the tarp covering the body. James flinched, looked away. "Young man, Caucasian, 15 or 16. Just about every bone in his body smashed."

"Where was he killed?"

James forced himself to look down at the corpse, "Not here."

"No, look at his neck."

"Tire marks."

"On the body, not on the ground around it."

Taking a deep breath, Robbie walked away, leaving James and Laura with the body. She called after him, "Where are you going?"

Without sparing a glance back, "Home, Hathaway can sort SOCO."

Laura looked back at James, concern etched on her face. "Is he OK?"

James shrugged, "He has been of late. But, today, he's been a bit off."

"Any idea why?"

"None. I thought meeting one of his favorite bands would cheer him up. It did. I don't know what this is about."

Laura raised her eyebrows, "Let me know if you figure it out."

* * *

He sat in the floor, a glass of whisky beside him, letting the music wash over him. All of the albums were scattered around him. The song ended, the scratching of the needle replaced the music. He hadn't listened to these songs since Val had died. There was a good reason for it.

"I remember seeing you for the first time."

He looked around, surprised and happy to see her. A sad smile tugged at the edges of his lips, "I remember seeing you too. You took my breath away. But then you always did."

He reached for the glass but she covered it with her hand. "It won't help."

"What can it hurt?"

"I'm right here. Talk to me rather than drinking that."

"Where have you been?"

"I checked in on Lyn and Patrick. You were doing better. Thought you might like a break from me."

He closed his eyes, "I was and then I wasn't. Why is it this hard?"

"It's a process. Two steps forward, one step back. What caused this setback?"

"I had a dream about you."

"What was it about?"

He shook his head, "I don't know. It faded the moment I woke. And it made me think about how so many memories are fading. And then I realized it was Sunday and I thought about the dinners we used to have. And from there it all sort of spiraled."

"But you met the band."

He laughed, "Yeah. But even that reminded me of you."

"I could never hold a candle to Esme in a top hat."

"No, love, she could never hold a candle to you."

She smiled, secretly pleased, even if she didn't really believe him. "Why didn't you take James out for a meal?"

He closed his eyes, let his head fall back. "I saw that poor boy's body and thought of Patrick at the same age and I knew I wasn't fit to be around anyone."

"I could go."

His head jolted upright, eyes flew open. "No." At her smile, "Seems everyone is having fun at my expense today."

"You do know James called you because he knew you loved them, right?"

"What?"

"He's seen your collection, he knew. He could have handled that call on his own. He wanted you to meet them."

Shaking his head, "My dream seems to have affected me more than I thought. I missed all sorts of things today."

"Why don't you put some other music on and I will tell you all about Lyn and Patrick? That way you won't miss out on anything else."

* * *

He leaned over her, anxious for her to speed up the process. Nerves rolling through him, he moved closer to the gate. He knew this was where the boy was killed, just needed her to prove it.

She looked up at him, "Someone's been scrubbing this. Been helpful if you'd called me in earlier."

"Hadn't made a connection earlier."

"Well, I can't be held accountable for your professional deficiencies."

He looked back at her, wondering if she was joining the list of people having fun at his expense. Choosing to ignore the dig, he addressed James. "See that there. I want Forensics all over that with their little hankies." He turned back to Laura, "Hobson, you're taking forever, man. It's blood, isn't it? Is it human?" She sat up, staring at him, at his tone. "I bet you fifty quid it's Lucas's."

Standing, she turned to James. "How can you stand him when he's like this."

"Suffering and endurance, doctor. Bedrock of a happy marriage."

Robbie interrupted their conversation, "This is where he was killed. He was climbing up there. The vehicle rammed the gates, knocked him off, he hit the floor. The car drove over him again and again to make absolutely sure that he was dead. The murderer got out, put the body in the car, drove across town and dumped it. Why? What did you want here, Lucas? What've these old rockers got to do with a boy like you?"

* * *

He joined Esme outside. A small part of him was happy to have her alone. But the rest of him knew something was off and suspected it had something to do with his case. He sat on the stone next to her, "Okay. This is the bit where you tell me the truth. If you lie to me now, you'll regret it."

"Have I lied to you?"

"You've been highly selective with what you say and don't say. You give the impression you just materialized here."

"What should I have said?"

He told the truth he'd finally figured out, "That you were delivered to the farm gates by Vernon Oxe."

She exhaled a cloud of smoke, "Materializing was good showbiz. People were impressed." She threw the cigarette away then turned back to Robbie. "35 years ago the band was in thrall to me. I was the enchantment that held us together. Made us stars. Think about that girl in the top hat, Lewis…and look at what I am now. If I'm going to do any enchanting these days, I'll need all the magic I can get." She pointed at him, "Now, Vernon may be a sad, fat old letch, but he's still got a bit of fairy dust up his sleeve. If it looked like the band was gonna get back on its feet, that everybody was gonna be in the vibe, then I'd trundle Vernon out of the wings. That was the plan."

Robbie smiled, a little enthralled with her story even if he didn't completely believe it. "I saw you play in Newcastle City Hall the night I met my wife."

"Is that a trick question? Did we play Newcastle?"

He nodded, "You did."

"Were we good?"

"Better than good."

"We could be again."

"Not if one of you's a murderer."

* * *

James met him outside. He was watching Laura pack up her things. He nodded in her direction, "She was a bit stroppy with me in there."

James nodded, "Not surprising, sir."

Robbie looked back at him, "Why?"

"You were a bit stroppy with her." James waited for recognition, when it didn't come, "Outside the gates. You might owe Dr. Hobson a bit of an apology, sir."

"Surely she didn't take that personally." He looked over at James, then nodded. "I'll give her a call."

"I can handle Vernon Oxe. Why don't you give her a call?"

* * *

He waited. She hadn't answered when he called, he'd left a message. Told her where he would be and asked her to please join him. He wasn't entirely sure she would. Wasn't even sure he would blame her if she didn't.

He heard her footsteps and turned to her. His entire body relaxed. She was smiling at him, seemed glad to see him. He wondered if there would ever be a time she didn't forgive him. It was the one thing about her which reminded him of Val, her endless supply of patience with him.

Handing him an evidence bag, "SOCO's found this in a wheelie bin down the road form the Faculty. They're good boys. Very thorough."

He held it up, trying to make out what it was. "What's on it?"

"Frisch's skin, which is what one might expect. But there's also a very small quantity of leather." He looked at her questioningly. She smiled, "One doesn't play the lute wearing gloves. With garrottings, one must expect gloves; the garrotter doesn't want to cut their hands on the murder weapon."

He stared off, "I have three killings, Doctor. And they're all connected."

She nodded, "Yep, I think they are. And I'll tell you something else about your murderer. He or she is very fastidious. Killed the first one with a car, second one with a needle, and strangled the third whilst wearing dinky little gloves."

He nodded, finally understanding her meaning. "Doesn't like the contact."

"Doesn't shy away from the brutal deed, but doesn't like to touch."

Robbie started walking, this wasn't what he'd planned when he'd asked her to join him. But it seemed to be providing them an equilibrium. "So, the killer silences Lucas. But that's not enough. Bone has to be got rid of, too. Then the killer thinks: 'Blimey, is there someone else I have to keep quiet?' And there was. Samantha Wheeler. What's the secret here, Laura? I mean, try and imagine three more utterly different people. What is it they all know that's so threatening? And who else knows?"

"Sounds like a lot of questions needing answers. If only I knew a good detective who get those answers."

He laughed, reached out touched her arm lightly. "I'm sorry, Laura." Pausing, "I'm at a bit of a loss these days."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

He closed his eyes, "Don't hate me, even when I'm an ill-tempered…"

"I could never hate you."

"I saw the look on your face."

She laughed, "OK, maybe for a second." Meeting his eye, "You're passionate and sometimes speak before you think."

"What do you do on Sundays?"

Wrinkling her nose, "What?"

"On Sundays, do you go to church, sleep late, do you have a routine?"

She shrugged, "Not really. Why do you ask?"

"When Val was alive we always had a traditional roast dinner on Sundays. Lately, I find I'm missing those more and more." At her concerned look, he touched her arm again. "I'm not missing Val, specifically, but the ritual of a Sunday meal with people I care about."

"I don't understand."

Rubbing at his eye, "I was wondering if you might like to have dinner on Sundays. I'm not asking you to cook and my cooking skills are nowhere near accomplished enough to pull off a meal like that. But, maybe, in a pub somewhere, we could have dinner. And it doesn't have to be every Sunday, I'm sure you have other friends and obligations but maybe once a month or so…"

"That sounds nice, Robbie."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

* * *

The paperwork was finished, the case closed. And now he was in need of a drink or two and something to eat.

"I hear you closed your case."

He turned, smiling at her. "We did and we are just about to grab a drink or two. Care to join us?"

"Will there be chips involved?"

"Aren't there always?"

Smiling, she nodded, "Then count me in."

James joined them and they left together. They walked in silence and bought their chips. The only sound, at first, was chewing. Finally, Laura, couldn't wait any longer. "I'm a simple soul, chaps. Try not to blind me with science."

James smiled at her joke, "Vernon Oxe was grooming Maureen Little to become like her sister Esme…to walk like her and talk like her."

Robbie interjected, "Sang very like her but not quite."

James continued, "Before he could get the whole con rolling, he had to get the endorsement of one or two people he thought were essential. Samantha Wheeler…"

Laura nodded, "But she smelled a rat."

Robbie hummed in agreement, "Vernon couldn't have her walking around saying Esme was a fake."

Looking over at Robbie, "And Bone wasn't buying it either." Both men shook their heads, "What about the first murder, the boy, Lucas?"

"Poor Lucas didn't fit in with the plot at all."

James filled in the gaps, "The whole scam was predicated on the fact that Maureen's life was empty. To have Vernon take control of it might have been a bad thing, but at least it was something, giving her life some purpose, some reason."

Laura shook her head, "Yeah, but not as much as finding out she had a real grandchild." Laura offered chips to James.

"Well, whatever Oxe was peddling by way of a fantasy couldn't start to compare with that. Lucas had to go." Smiling over at Laura, "Still, at least, Hathaway got a glimpse of the rock and roll life. That's educational."

James smiles. "Yes, now I know what it feels like to be Britney Spears."

"Will it stop you dressing like her on your days off?" Robbie asks.

"Probably not. That's another thing I shall need counseling for. I spent all afternoon in a lake full of crap with knives in it, saving your presence, doctor. I haven't begun on the matter of compensation."

Robbie looked at him. "Would you settle out of court for a pint?"

James looks at him confused. "What do you think I am?"

"Thirsty?"

"Two pints!"

"Done."

James' mobile beeped, "Excuse me." He pulled it from his pocket, reading the text responding to it instantly.

Laura and Robbie continued walking. Lightly hitting his arm, she teased, "Oh pull yourself together, Lewis. You're only young once and that was a long time ago. I'll buy you a drink and you can bang on about how perfect everything was in your day. Now when I say buy you a drink I should point out that I don't actually have any cash."

She tucked her arm into his as they continued walking. James followed at a distance, waiting to see if he got a response to his text. Robbie opened the door for Laura just as his phone beeped, he looked down at the screen smiling.

"Sir, I'll take a raincheck on those pints." Robbie turned back to him, a questioning look. "Some of us have personal lives, sir." He pointed at Laura, "I'm sure the good doctor doesn't mind keeping you company."

Laura laughed, "Challenge accepted, James. Have a good evening."

James was off before Robbie could respond. He stood staring at the retreating form of his partner, "What was that all about?"

"I suspect he has a date."

"Well if he had a date then why did he come out with us at all?"

She rolled her eyes, "I think the text might have had been the confirmation of plans."

He huffed, "In my day, people planned things, asked people out."

"Were those the days of arranged marriages and dowries?"

Her eyes widened, panic filled her as she realized what she'd said. She was just about to apologize when he laughed. "Actually, Val had to ask me out."

"What?"

He ordered their drinks, then turned smiling at her. "We met at a Midnight Addiction concert. Started talking, spent most of the evening side by side, cheering on the band. At the end, she asked me if I had any plans that would get in the way. I asked her get in the way of what? She smiled at me and said 'To you taking me to dinner tomorrow night.'" He paid for their drinks and nodded at an empty table in a corner.

As they sat, she smiled at him. "Is that story true?"

He nodded, "Every word. If not for her boldness, I might have let her walk away. Might have spent the rest of my life wondering what if."

Raising her glass, she touched it softly to his. "To Val."

"To Val."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

They waited outside the courtroom, no words spoken, each lost in his own thoughts. Robbie watched him, searching for the right words to say, finding they didn't come. He was worried about James. Since he'd found the young girl's body, he hadn't been the same. He'd been reclusive, even more so than normal.

At his best, James was too introspective, took the job to heart too much. This had hurt him, damaged his psyche in ways other cases hadn't. As much as James liked to pretend he was above it all, Robbie knew otherwise. He needed to say something, give some advice. As he opened his mouth, they called for James.

James straightened, schooled the expression on his face. It hurt Robbie to see him withdraw even further into himself. "Alright?"

Looking forward, not daring to make eye contact, "Yep." Without another word, he turned walking away.

All Robbie could do was wait, stay and offer support when it was over. His ringing phone had other plans though.

* * *

James was seated at his desk, brooding, when Robbie returned from the murder scene. One glance at him and Laura's words returned. He didn't know what to say, she might be right but he thought it was best to distract James.

"We need to establish where he joined this magical mystery tour."

James nodded, "Nobody saw him get on?"

"Well, you know these tours, people are so busy gawping, they don't pay much heed to their fellow travelers."

"I think I might notice if there was a corpse sat next to me." He turned, smirking at Robbie.

Robbie handed him the map route for the bus, "There's an itinerary. See if you can find out if anybody saw him along the way."

James looked down at the map, "Where will you be?"

"Kidlington, for starters. Tudor Crescent, where he lived. I'm going to try and find out a bit more about him." He walked to the door, pausing, "How'd it go?"

James stared, fixedly, at the wall. "Zelinsky changed his plea after all of that."

"Result, then." At James scoff, "What?"

"Remanded for sentencing pending a social report, which'll probably say he had a very unhappy childhood."

"And did he?"

Anger clouded James' features, "Well, who didn't? We don't all go round abducting ten-year-old girls, do we?"

"Court's decision. Thankfully. We just nick 'em. It's why God created beer." James snuffled, Laura's words echoed in Robbie's head again. "Listen…"

James looked up, an edge in his voice, "You didn't find her."

He couldn't fix him, couldn't make this better. He'd have to let the lad find his own way. "No. I know." All he could do was be there, keep things as normal as possible. "Oh, you'll probably bump into Hooper and some of the other lads on your travels. There was a firearms incident at one of the staging posts this morning. Crevecoeur…Crevecoeur Hall."

* * *

He walked the grounds, a million memories returning. This had been one of the last places he'd been truly happy. It seemed a hundred years ago. As a secondary awareness, he'd heard the car roll to a stop on the gravel but it wasn't until he heard the voice it really registered.

"Excuse me? Why are there police cars all over the…James?" He looked over at the woman. She removed her glasses, the beginning of a smile, "My God! It's James Hathaway, isn't it?"

He smiled, would have recognized her anywhere. "Hello, Scarlett."

"It's been a long time. I heard you'd joined the priesthood."

"Didn't take."

"Not sure I can quite see you as a Father Hathaway."

"Nor could I, in the end. What about you?"

Pointing at the house, "Me? I'm one of the idle rich. Surely you've read about us."

He nodded, "I read that you got married."

Her smile broadened, "Mmm, yes, Fabio. That was, uh…" She took a deep breath, "I'd almost forgotten about him. We all make mistakes. You?"

"Mistakes? Plenty, I'm sure."

"Of the matrimonial variety?"

His mobile rang, as he shook his head. "No."

"Perhaps we should compare notes."

He pulled the phone from his pocket, silencing it. "Sorry."

"Well, it's, uh…" Leaning in she kissed him on the cheek. "You should call me. Or not."

As she turned to leave, he stuttered, "I, uh… I don't have your number."

Turning back to him, she smiled. "You're a detective, aren't you?"

* * *

He met James on the steps. Holding out the shirt he'd been given, "Present from Mr. Hopkiss. I won't ask." Nodding back at the woman, "So?"

"Selina was due to ride out this morning with Scarlett, but she cried off with a migraine, took a couple of tablets and went to bed."

"Anyone vouch for her?"

"She says she spoke to a Professor Pelham. Art historian. He's looking into some His Lordship's paintings. He's a fellow of Longsdale College."

"What about the daughter, Scarlett?"

They started walking, "Arrived at the same time as I did this afternoon."

"And?"

James shook his head, "Flying visit, apparently. According to Selina, she was dropping off some place cards for her engagement. They're having a big do day after tomorrow."

Robbie nodded, "So His Lordship said."

"You don't really think any of them are involved, do you?"

"Well, we'll have a clearer idea once we find out a bit more about Dr. Black. Oh, did you get on to Frances Woodville?"

"Oh, I'm sorry sir. I haven't had a chance."

"No, no, it's all right. Not to worry, I'll track her down. You cut along."

"What about the estate manager?"

Nodding, "Grahame. It's fine. I'll take it. You had a long day. Court and so forth." He paused, then decided to say something. "You know, James…"

"All right then, I'll…" They both laughed, uncomfortable. James nodded, "I'll, um, I'll go, then, sir. Nothing else?"

Robbie paused for a moment, wondering if he was missing a moment. "No, no, nothing else."

James smiled, looked down, "Night."

Robbie watched him walk away, certain he'd missed his opportunity. Concern grew inside him.

* * *

"You arranged to meet Dr. Black yesterday. We found your number on his answerphone."

She nodded, "He called a couple of days ago, asked me to meet him at the Turl. When he didn't turn up, well…you heard my message." She paused, the full measure of what Robbie had told her sinking in. "Now I know why."

"What did he want?"

Looking up at Robbie, "He wouldn't say." She leaned over picking up her bag. She was stalling looking for the right words, not wanting to speak ill of the dead. Finally, she decided the Inspector looked trustworthy. "Fond of a bit of cloak and dagger was our Stephen."

Robbie closed the distance between them, "You wouldn't happen to know what he was working on?"

Putting away her things, "By all accounts, he'd been pretty much living at the Bodleian. The chief librarian might shed some light."

"When did you last see him?"

"Couple of months ago. College dinner to celebrate his appointment to the Commonwealth Chair."

"And how did he seem?"

She paused, looking for a word, "Tiggerish. He said, in that rather grand way he had, that his great work was about to reach its apotheosis."

Robbie smiled at her reference to the Winnie the Pooh character, another woman who used that book to express herself. "And what did you take that to mean?"

Tilting her head, "Impossible to say with Stephen. Especially in his cups."

He followed her, "Oh, he liked a drink, did he?"

"I like a drink." At the door, she turned back to him. "Stephen? It was the real thing."

"It doesn't sound like you thought a lot of him."

"We had our moments." Looking down she decided to trust this man again, "He 'borrowed' much of the work which underpinned my doctorate to secure the Commonwealth Chair."

Robbie's eyebrows raised, "That's against the rules, isn't it?"

"Have you been in Oxford long?" At his smile, "Stand us a pint and I'll give you the grisly."

* * *

They'd ordered their drinks. He'd smiled when he'd ordered and she'd told the bartender to make it two. He'd been certain her comment about a pint had simply been a euphemism.

He watched her take a drink, waiting for her to start the conversation. After a quick sip, she dove in. "All right. What was Stephen like? Well, that would depend on whether you mean before or after the accident."

"What accident?"

"About six years ago, he ran his car into a student, Freddie Randall. The boy's fault." She waved her hand, "Coroner said as much."

"How was that?"

"Lad had been drinking." She looked up, meeting Robbie's gaze, "He just stepped out in front of the car. Nothing he could have done, but… Stephen vowed he would never get behind the wheel again, and he really started putting away."

"Is that why you didn't go public on his…what would you call it? Theft of intellectual property?"

"What, a few dusty old lines on John Thurloe? Hardly worth going to war over." She looked down, smiled fondly. "No, actually, I felt sorry for him. He'd been my tutor. Terrible to watch a brilliant man fall apart so completely."

"Were you two ever…"

"Were we ever lovers?" At his nod, she smiled, "Long ago, another lifetime. Then we were friends, then colleagues. And we kept our love lives separate.

"Did he ever mention a Linda Grahame?"

"No. But as I say, Stephen's love life was a closed book."

"This work couldn't have anything to do with Crevecoeur hall, could it?"

She nodded, "Possibly." At his curious look, she elaborated. "English Civil War 101. By 1648, King Charles was a prisoner of the Scots. There was always a rumor that he entrusted Richard Mortmaigne, Fourth Marquess of Tygon, with certain priceless treasures for safekeeping."

"What sort of treasures?"

"A king's ransom. Literally. Now, one source alleges he tried to buy his own release with part of that treasury in Mortmaigne's safekeeping."

"Why do I get the feeling there's a 'however' coming?"

She leaned forward, "Because I suspect you're much smarter than you look." At his look, "It's a compliment."

"Aye, backhanded."

"When word was sent to Crevecoeur, Richard Mortmaigne claimed, with much regret, that it had been lost."

"Richard Mortmaigne stole the treasure?"

"And concealed it somewhere on the estate."

"And Stephen Black was looking for the treasure?" He paused, "Why?"

"Legacy, obsession, who knows?" She paused for a moment, "Why do you do it?"

He shook his head, "Do what?"

"Play the dumb copper, routine. Surely people see through it."

"In all of my years in Oxford, you're only the second person who has."

"Why do you think that is?"

"People hear the accent, make assumptions."

"Who is the other person?"

"A colleague. But we've worked together for years." He took a sip from his beer, "How did you come to the conclusion I'm smarter than I look."

"The way you questioned me. Never giving anything away yet eliciting the maximum amount of information. That takes real skill and a keen intellect. The skill might be learned but the intellect is native." She smiled, reaching across to lightly touch the hand cupping his glass. "I really did mean it as a compliment. I've enjoyed your questioning."

Laying his hand flat on the table, he didn't move it when her hand covered his. "I enjoyed your answers."

* * *

As he walked toward her rooms, he found himself excited to see her. Truthfully, a thrill had run through him when they'd found the papers. James had offered to bring them over and he'd quickly shot him down. This was an errand he would run.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked on her door, smiling to himself when she told him to enter. Pushing open the door, he smiled. "Thank for seeing me."

"I was hoping you would call." Looking at the pile of papers under his arm, "Of course, I was hoping it was my wiles that would have you calling. But I'll take what I can get." Motioning toward the papers, "What's all this?"

He spread them across her desk, "Stuff recovered from Dr. Black's house. His notebooks, charts…"

Smiling over at him, "What do you want me to do with it?"

"Well, there's no doubt he was interested in Crevecoeur, and the history of the Mortmaignes in particular. I can't make head nor tail of it, but…"

"You thought I might?"

"Hoped, actually. From what I've been able to sort out…" He pulled a single piece of paper from the stack, "This seems to be some sort of cryptogram?" Looking over at her innocently, "Is that what it's called?"

"I said you were smart." She nodded, "It's a code employed by John Thurloe's men."

"Didn't you mention something about him in relation to your doctorate?"

"I did, yes."

"Who was he, John Thurloe?"

"Spymaster for Oliver Cromwell."

"Can you crack it?"

Tilting her head, "What's it worth?"

"My undying gratitude."

"Does that include dinner?"

He smiled, laughing just a bit. She intrigued him. "Yes, it does."

* * *

Scarlett and her fiancé walked away from them. Suddenly, it all made sense. James's caginess about this case didn't have to do with his childhood. It had to do with this woman.

James tried to cover, "I'm invited to the engagement party as Scarlett's guest."

Walking away, "Conversational Mandarin? There something you want to tell me?" He looked back at James, "We're in the middle of a murder investigation and you've got yourself…what? Involved with one of the suspects?"

"I thought the investigation was done."

"Yeah, well, it's not. So now what? God, are you out of your mind? If anybody else gets wind of this, you could find yourself on a disciplinary charge."

Anger built inside him, "Yeah, well, no one else is going to."

Turning back to James, "Oh, really? Are you sure about that? Hooper's already putting it around the nick that you're cozying up to the nobility. I'm sure it would break his heart to lay it before the superintendent. And you'd be busted down to constable. Maybe even dismissed."

"Well, to be honest with you, I'm not sure I want to wake up in 20 years-time, old and with nothing more to show than a life spent picking through other people's misery."

"Okay, well, I'll make it easy for you. You're on leave as of now."

"Leave?"

"Yeah, You're due, aren't you?"

"What about the investigation?"

"No longer your concern."

* * *

He needed to talk to someone, needed advice. The only person who knew them both and wouldn't judge was Laura. He found her still at work in the morgue. Sticking his head in the door, "You got a minute?"

"I guess."

"Care to grab a drink?"

She smiled sadly, "I'm not really dressed for it."

"I can wait if you want to change."

* * *

He'd told her the story while walking to the pub. Leaving her to find the table, they picked up the conversation when he brought the drinks to the table.

"He's just not thinking straight."

"The Zelinsky case?"

"Yeah, well, it's partly that but…" Taking a sip from his beer, "It's something more. To do with Crevecoeur. Going back there after all these years. Whatever it is, it's got him all bent out of shape."

Taking a moment, Laura stared down at her glass. "So how've you left it?"

"I told him to take some time. Think it over. Then tell me what he wants."

"And what do you want him to do?"

He looked at her for a moment, "Me? It's not for me."

"Why not?"

"Well…" Meeting her eyes, he was surprised by the concern he saw. "He's an awkward sod at the best of times. God knows. But he's my awkward sod. I don't want to go through all the palaver of getting another sergeant house-trained."

She paused for a moment wondering why he didn't see how much alike they were. Robbie liked to think he was a man of the people but in his own way, he was as awkward as James. "Have you told him?" Her pager beeped. She dug through her purse, looking at the display when she found it. "Duty calls, I'm afraid."

"Well… Thanks for…you know, listening."

She nodded, "Any time." Pausing again, she decided to just say what was on her mind. "People don't know how you feel unless you tell them."

* * *

He'd covered for the lad with the Chief Super. He'd known, since his conversation with Laura, he would. Walking through the grounds, he knew where he'd find James.

James tossed the cigarette away as Robbie came to a stop, "I'm going to hand in my papers."

Robbie looked over at him, "Resign?"

"I compromised the investigation."

"You made a mistake. You're human."

"Not good enough."

"Why do you have to be better? What happened here… You're not to blame for any of it. Not then, not now. As for handing in your papers? Well, if it's all the same to you…" Robbie paused, heard Laura's words and pushed on. "Between us we make a not bad detective." He met James' glance. "I'm the brains, obviously."

"Obviously." James looked into the distance, knew he'd been forgiven. All of the hurt and anguish from the last few weeks disappeared. He smiled, a genuine smile. "Sir, would you like to get a pint? Celebrate the closing of the case."

Nodding he turned and started walking away. "Normally, I would say yes. But some of us have social lives."

Following a few steps behind, "I'm sure Dr. Hobson won't mind if I tag along, sir."

"I'm sure she wouldn't. But I'm not meeting Dr. Hobson."

"You have a date, sir."

"Aye, I do, sergeant."

"Might I ask with whom?"

"You might, but it doesn't guarantee I'll answer."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

He pushed into the flat, hurrying. His jacket hung over his arm, tie in the pocket. Before the door closed, his shirt was unbuttoned and he was pulling it from his trousers. He dropped everything on the bed as he unbuckled his belt and started the water in his shower.

"I think the kids call this the 'walk of shame'."

He turned back to her, scowling. "The kids?"

She shrugged, "I keep up with the times." Smiling at his annoyance, "You could just bring her here, you know. It's not as if I would watch."

"It wouldn't feel right."

"You've had Laura over, that never seems to bother you."

"I'm not… Laura and I are just friends." He turned away, removing his trousers.

Val's laughter filled the room, "You don't have on any underpants."

He scrubbed his hand over his face, "I was in a hurry, couldn't find them."

She bit at her lips, trying to prevent further laughter. "Well, I'm sure you can claim them the next time you see her. Perhaps you could have her bring them here. You could cook dinner for her."

Her conversation was halted by his ringing phone. He grabbed the phone from his trouser pockets. One look at the screen and he wrapped a towel around his waist, before pressing the button to connect the call.

"Lewis." He listened for a few seconds, "Yeah, text me the address."

As he climbed into the shower, Val teased, "Is there a reason you wrapped the towel around you to answer your mobile?"

He gave her a grumpy look, before he stepped under the hot water. "It was Laura. James asked her to call me with the details."

Val looked away, biting the inside her lips to keep from laughing. "She couldn't see you on the phone."

"I know that, Val. It just didn't seem right."

Sticking her head around the shower curtain, "Does it feel wrong because you are fresh from the bed of another woman or because you don't want to be naked around Laura Hobson?"

He opened his eyes, glaring at her. "I don't remember you being quite so sarcastic when you were alive."

She shrugged, cheekily, "I wasn't. It's my one regret from our marriage. I should have challenged you a bit more. Maybe then you wouldn't have such a hard time moving on."

* * *

As he pulled up to the crime scene, his conversation with Val echoed in his mind. Her regret, especially, was worrying him. He didn't have any regrets from their marriage. It bothered him that she did.

James was on him the minute he got out of his car. He was still ten feet away when he started talking, "Professor Andrew Crompton, Master of Gresham College, took a tumble and hit his head."

"Suspicious?"

James handed him scene suit as he continued detailing the case, "Signs of a struggle and his face is scratched.

They pulled on their scene suits and entered the building. Laura nodded at the two of them, then started running down the facts.

"He fell backwards down the stairs, by the look of it, and bumped his way down, but the fatal impact was probably the wound to his right temple."

"When he hit the floor?"

"Yes." She looked over at Robbie, "I was at Gresham College yesterday."

He paused for a moment, trying to remember why she would have been there. He remembered her telling him, over drinks, about her concert. "Oh, practicing for your concert?"

She nodded, "Rehearsing, yes."

Staring down at her, "Is there a difference?"

James watched them, having a conversation not pertaining to the case. "What about these scratches?"

They turned to them simultaneously, Laura answered him. "Someone's clawed at him." She turned back to Robbie, "I practice alone; together we rehearse."

James interrupted again, trying to get them to focus. "Attack? Defense?"

"I'm not Mystic Meg."

Robbie smiled at her joke, "More like Acker Bilk."

Laura rolled her eyes at Robbie as James asked, "Who?"

Smiling down at James, "He played the clarinet, too."

Robbie had crossed the room, was climbing the stairs as he added. "Back in the olden times."

Laura smiled to herself as he climbed the stairs. She was secretly thrilled he'd remembered her concert. It would be nice if he came.

* * *

They watched the press conference from across the quad. James turned to Robbie, "How serious do you think Mrs. Crompton was about the Master having an affair?"

"I'm not sure." Robbie paused for a moment, "You're wondering if Gwen Raeburn's tears were for more than just an old friend?"

"Uh-huh. There's definitely something in that notebook; she'd asked me whether we'd returned it to Jez."

Grimacing, "I should have thought."

"Don't worry, sir, I did. I ran off a copy."

Robbie looked over, surprised at his sergeant. "You're not so green as you're cabbage looking, are you?"

James looked at him, a confused expression. Looking away, back across the quad, "What?"

Robbie saw Laura, walking, on the far side of the quad. She looked their way but he wasn't sure if she was looking at them or at the ongoing interview. James glanced at Robbie, wondering if he'd noticed Dr. Hobson. He was just about to say something when Robbie spoke.

"Tell me if you think this is a really, really bad idea."

"Go on."

"What if we ask Dr. Hobson to keep an eye out? She's in those rehearsals, can get access to things we can't. Think she'd be up for it?"

James smiled to himself, "I'm sure if you're doing the asking, she won't mind."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Shaking his head, "I'm sure she won't mind."

They circled around, caught up with her easily. "Dr. Hobson, Laura, we have a favor to ask?"

Eyes going back and forth between them, she asked skeptically. "A favor?"

Robbie smiled, "It's a small one. You're going to be here anyway. All we need to know is if anything odd is going on."

"What do you take me for? Undercover clarinet? I'm too busy getting the notes in the right order to spy for you."

"Not spy, Laura. Just keep your eyes open."

James leaned in, whispering conspiratorially. "And your ears."

"Oh, ears too now, is it?" James nodded. She paused, giving their favor a few seconds thought. "Have you got your tickets yet?" The two men stared at each other, neither had planned on attending. "For the performance?" As they looked anywhere but at her, "It's in a good cause." She smiled as they reached for their wallets, "So, that's, um, two each? Top price?"

Pulling money from his wallet, Robbie handed it to her. Frances would enjoy the event, "Done."

She handed the tickets to Robbie then took James' money as he smiled down at her, "Quite."

She smiled, pleased with herself for twisting them into buying the tickets. Truth told, she would have done it without the ticket purchase but served them right for ganging up on her. "Thank you, gentlemen. I look forward to seeing you and your dates the night of the concert. I'll let you know what I see and hear."

They watched her walk away, each rather certain they'd just been conned. James was the first to break the silence, "We have to bring a date?"

"I might ask the Chief Super, pay her back for all of those events she makes me attend."

"She's already going, I heard them talking about it earlier in the week. What about the lovely Dr. Woodville?"

"This would be right up her alley. Now we just need to find you a date."

* * *

Laura heard the first gunshot and instantly knew what it was. Mentally she tracked the sound, dropped her clarinet case to the ground, running toward it not away from it. She was running down the corridor when the second shot rang out.

She found the woman at the end of the corridor. She was on her knees, clasping her chest, gasping for air. She closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms around the woman. "It's all right. It's all right, it's all right."

The Master's wife appeared in the courtyard, Laura called to her. "Ambulance! Call an ambulance!"

She held the woman, felt when the life slipped from her body. Still, she couldn't bring herself to let the woman go until the paramedics arrived. They'd attempted to pry her arms from around the lifeless body of the woman. Even then, it wasn't until she heard Robbie's voice that she let go.

He'd knelt beside her, his arms wrapping around her. "It's all right, pet. Let her go. These lads will take care of her."

She'd nodded then, turning to him as he pulled her up. His arm had encircled her waist as he walked her away from the body. She'd curled into him, happy for his warmth as he led her away. Her mind started organizing what she'd witnessed when they made it to the courtyard.

She pulled away from him, starting running through the details, while they were still fresh. "According to my watch, life was extinct at 3:48."

He paused for only a second, he knew she needed this so he questioned her. "But you didn't see anyone?"

"No, only the Master's wife. Whoever did it must have run back through and left the other way as I went in. There was a door open."

"The room's unoccupied. We think they must have hid there and waited." Reaching out he touched her arms, "Look, I'll get you a lift home."

She shook her head, "No, I'm fine."

"I'm not arguing." She smiled, nodding. James and a PC approached. "Can you take Dr. Hobson home, John?"

* * *

"Frances, sorry to do this on such short notice, but I have to cancel tonight."

"I saw on the news. A shooting at Gresham."

"I've got a few leads to run down. I'll be half the night."

"I'll be up; you could still come by."

He laughed, "No, my mind'll be racing. No need in both of us losing sleep."

"I wasn't exactly talking about sleep, Robbie."

He smiled, a blush creeping up his neck. "A raincheck, dinner later in the week. I have something I want to ask you."

"Perhaps I could come to your place. You could cook one of those simple meals you always tell me about."

He swallowed, panic setting in. "Yeah, maybe. I'll give you a call." He disconnected the call, dropped the phone into his pocket then stepped out of his car.

As he walked to the door, he thought about the tickets that had come in the post earlier in the day. He'd bought them on a whim, knew it was something she would like. But now, he wasn't as certain. Going away together, it was a commitment of sorts. There was no turning back from that.

He knocked, looking up at the second story windows. He saw lights go on and he waited. When the door opened, he smiled, widely. Holding up the wrappers in his hands, "Just wanted to check on you, make sure you ate."

Wrapping her arms around her waist, she smiled. "You could have called."

"But then I couldn't have provided sustenance, Laura."

Tilting her head toward the house, "Come on in."

He followed her inside, unsurprised by how tidy the house was. "Did I wake you?"

She smiled over her shoulder, "Yes. I made it home and all of the stress of the afternoon hit me. I barely had time to change before I collapsed."

"Then it's a good thing I brought food."

She motioned toward the table, "Would you like some wine? I might have a beer or two in the refrigerator."

"What are you having?"

"Wine."

"Then I'll join you in that."

They settled at the table, eating and drinking in comfortable silence. "You didn't have to do this, Robbie."

He smiled at her, "I know, I wanted to."

"Thank you, it means a lot."

* * *

Sleep was beckoning as he entered his flat. Once again, his jacket was hanging from his arm, tie in his pocket. His shirt was unbuttoned, hanging loose by the time he stepped into his bedroom. Val was there, on the bed, reading.

"I wasn't expecting you here."

She smiled, "I knew you would be home tonight. Thought you might like a friendly face."

"Clean teeth and a comfortable bed are all I want tonight."

"I'll go."

He shook his head, "No, stay, talk to me. Tell me about the kids." He pointed at the bathroom, "I'll change, be back in a minute."

She nodded watching him finish stripping. Listened while he went through his nightly ablutions. When he returned to the bedroom, she smiled. He slid into bed beside her, lay on his back staring up at the ceiling. She knew he had something on his mind. She also knew it was best to let him come to her.

It only took a few minutes then he inhaled deeply. "I'm sorry you had regrets."

"What?"

His head turned toward her, "In our marriage, I'm sorry you had regrets."

"I didn't, really. Not in the sense you seem to have worked up in your mind."

"But you said you regretted not challenging me more. I hope you didn't think I expected you to be something…"

"Robbie, I wasn't anything…I mean you didn't make me do anything. I chose not to push and challenge you because I didn't want to fight needlessly. My grandmother gave me advice right before we married. She told me to choose my battles, it was the secret to a happy marriage. So I did, I chose the ones that were really important, like Sunday dinners. The rest, I let go. Because it made us all happier and because they weren't important." Pausing, she smiled sadly, "But, I see you struggling so to move on and I wonder if I had chosen more battles if it might be easier."

"I don't understand."

She laughed, "The women you meet now are all vastly more independent than I was. They aren't going to choose their battles. They are fully capable of not only fighting the battle but winning the war. And that's not something you're really equipped to deal with."

"Did I make you happy?"

She nodded, "Very much so."

"I'm afraid."

"Of what, my love."

"Of not being able to make another person happy. What if I can't adapt?"

"Robbie, when the time is right, you won't have any problem at all. Just don't try to force the issue. Let it happen naturally."

"I'll have to give you up."

She shook her head, "No, the right person will make room for me. In her own way, will even honor my memory."

He closed his eyes, sighing softly. "I hope you're right, Val."

* * *

He waved at Laura. She was right on time. While James went to get drinks, Laura filled him in on the rehearsal from the day before. There was something about this performance nagging at him. "What is it you're performing again? The Planets?"

She nodded, "That's right."

"One of them's not Venus by any chance, is it?"

"Second movement. Venus, the Bringer of Peace. Why?"

He shook his head, "Wish I knew." He nodded as James sat the glass of orange juice in front of him. "Thanks." Nodding at Laura, he filled James in. "Kate Cameron apparently was very angry just before the shooting."

"Angry or desperate. When I asked her what was wrong she just walked out."

"She'd just had a bust up with Jez, we saw that."

James turned to Laura "And what about Lady Raeburn?"

"You mean Gwen? She's very down to earth. Hates people using a title."

Robbie smirked at James, "Good for her."

"Well, she left rehearsal in a bit of a state too, just before Kate. But I sort of know what that was about, text that Finniston received. It seemed to upset both of them."

James nodded, "Well, Finniston goes way back with the Cromptons and the Raeburns."

Robbie shook his head, "I don't suppose you…"

"How on earth would I know what the text was about…unless I managed to snaffle Finniston's phone for a second when he left it lying around, scrolled through to the message…" Smiling, "Made a note of it and the number it came from?"

She pulled a piece of paper from her pocket and handed it to them. James smiled over at Robbie, "Genius."

Robbie took the piece of paper from her, "Seconded." He unfolded the piece of paper, reading from it, "Revenge is sweet." He read the number out loud as James dialed it.

* * *

He was cooking dinner when the knock came. Turning down the heat, he gave the pan one last stir then went to the door. "Frances? Did we have plans?"

She held up a bottle of wine, "Thought you might like some company and a sympathetic ear."

Rubbing at his left eye, "I'm not really…"

She pushed past him, "Something smells good, what are you cooking?"

"Just a simple stir fry."

Turning back to him, "Is there enough for two?"

He nodded, "Sure." Pointing at the bottle, "Let me get some glasses."

They ate in relative silence, basic questions about their respective days. But the conversation lagged each time. At the end of the meal, Robbie picked up the plates. "I'll just clean these up." He pointed to the sitting room, "If you want to have a seat. I'll just be a few minutes."

She wandered around the room, glancing at all of the pictures. There were only two that didn't include his wife or his children. One was an older picture; he was getting some sort of commendation. There was an older man in the background. The other was of him with a younger blonde woman. It looked like it have been taken at some party. They were stood close together, each was smiling but they weren't looking at the camera. Instead they were looking at each other.

"Would you like some more wine?"

She turned, slightly ashamed to have been caught snooping. "No, I suspect I'm going to need a clear head."

He furrowed his brow, "Why's that?"

"I don't really fit in here, do I?"

"What do you mean?"

She waved around the room, "Amidst all of your memories, that's why you've never invited me. Isn't it?"

"Frances?"

"Just say it, Robbie. You're still stuck in the past. And I'm not willing to play second fiddle."

"It's not that…" He took a step toward her, "I like spending time with you."

"But only on your terms."

"We're having fun, getting to know one another."

"Only I'm not looking for a bit of fun."

He closed his eyes, exhaled heavily, "And that's all I'm ready for."

She nodded, "At least we found out before something bad happened."

Meeting her gaze, "Such as?"

"Before I fell any more in love with you." His eyes widened, she stepped closer, kissing him lightly on the cheek. "Goodbye, Robbie."

* * *

They needed to find Kate Cameron, knew the one place she would be. As they entered the room, his eyes were drawn instantly to Laura. She was smiling, talking with Sir Arnold Raeburn. Spotting them, she excused herself and made her way to them.

"Do you know where Kate is?"

Laura looked around, "Uh, she hasn't arrived yet."

Robbie turned, walking away. James turned back to Laura. "Well, break a leg if that's what they say."

"I don't think they do."

* * *

They walked out of the quad, watched the body loaded onto the ambulance. Robbie looked over at James' long face and knew a touch of levity was what was needed. "I was looking forward to that concert."

James looked over at him, "Do you think we'll be able to get our money back?"

"Worth a try." They started walking away, "Although, actually, I'm more of a Wagner man myself, especially if the conductor's Knappertsbusch."

"Bless You."

* * *

He was still in his pajamas when the knock came. Looking up from his paper, he glanced at the clock. It was half one, he wasn't expecting anyone. He walked to the door, opened it and almost jumped out of his skin. Laura was standing there, dressed casually, smiling up at him. "You're not going out like that, are you?"

"Did we have plans?"

"Sunday dinner, once a month. We agreed on the third Sunday of the month." Holding up her hand, she showed him her watch. "That's today. You can't very well invite a girl to dinner and then back out."

Looking down at his pajamas, slightly embarrassed, "You'll have to give me a few minutes."

"Do you have a paper?"

He stepped back, letting her enter. "In the sitting room."

"You haven't done the crossword have you?"

"No, I haven't."

She nodded, "Then you can have half an hour."

"It's going to take you half an hour to do the crossword."

She shook her head, "No, it'll take me ten minutes to make a cup of tea and twenty minutes to do the crossword."

"What if I offer you a glass of wine instead?"

"That will only take two minutes. What am I supposed to do with the other eight minutes?"

He poured her a glass of wine, "I'll leave that to your discretion. I'll be back in half an hour."

Twenty-five minutes later he returned. Laura was on her second glass of wine and was wandering around his sitting room. She was looking at the picture of him and Morse. Hearing him she turned, smiling, "I missed this. I'd planned on going but was called out to a scene. He was very proud of you."

"And how do you know that?"

"He told me. I expect he never said it to you."

"Never."

"Maybe, he thought I'd tell you one day."

He nodded, "Maybe. You ready?"

Draining the last sip from her glass, she handed it to him. "I like your new place. Feels more like a home than your last flat."

He smiled, "Thank you."

"You're settling back into life, aren't you?"

Nodding, "I am."

"Does that include dating?"

He stared at her, for a split second thought about lying. But there was something in her expression and he knew he had to tell her the truth. "Until a few days ago, yes."

"What happened?"

"She thinks I'm not ready to move on."

"What makes her think that?"

He motioned around the room, "She didn't feel comfortable amidst all my memories."

She smiled, "Funny, I think all of your memories are what make you, you." Their eyes met, held for a moment. "So, is she right?"

He shook his head, "No, I think she's wrong. Or at least the wrong person. With the right person, I suspect I won't have any problem moving on at all."


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

 **My apologies for the long delay. I've been transitioning jobs at work so instead of doing 2 jobs, I am doing 3. I've been working way too much and something had to give. Hope I can update more regularly over the next few weeks.**

* * *

"Not that one."

He turned back to her, his hand still on the hanger. "Why?"

"The blue checked one. Laura likes it."

Pulling the shirt she'd recommended off the hanger, he turned to her. As he slid his arm into one sleeve, "Laura is it? What happened to 'the good doctor'?"

"I've decided I like her. And she likes that shirt."

"How do you know?"

"Every time you wear it, she compliments you. She never compliments your other shirts. The last time she said it brought out your eyes."

He shook his head as he buttoned the shirt, "I meant how do you know you like her."

"Because she's protective of you, loyal. Like James, but different."

"Different how?"

Cocking an eyebrow at him, "Surely I don't need to have a birds and bees conversation with you."

He shook his head, almost afraid to admit he knew exactly what she meant. "It's not like that. We're friends."

"You could be more. All you have to do is ask?"

A knock at his door, froze him. "Ask what?"

"Those tickets hanging on the refrigerator are about to go to waste."

"No, I'll call the box office see about selling them back."

"Whatever you wish, but I think it's a missed opportunity."

At another knock, he tucked his shirt in quickly. "No, it's not worth the risk."

"What risk?"

"If she doesn't… She's my best friend."

"She could be more."

* * *

They lingered over their meal, enjoying the late afternoon sun. Val's words echoed through Robbie's mind. "Robbie, is something wrong?"

He shook his head, "No, not at all."

"You seem distracted."

Smiling, he took a sip of his wine. "Are you saying I'm bad company?"

Rolling her eyes, she laughed. "Horrible. I think you owe me something in recompense."

He met her laughing gaze, smiled at how easy it was to be with her. "Would tickets to an opera be appropriate recompense?"

"What?"

He watched her over his drink, "At Glyndebourne, The Fairy Queen."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes, I am."

"Have you already bought the tickets?" He nodded, "Yes."

"I'm guessing you didn't buy them specifically for me."

He shook his head, "No, I bought them with someone else in mind." He paused, "I shouldn't have asked."

"Yes."

"I'm sorry."

She reached for his hand, "I meant yes, Robbie. I'll go. I've never been to Glyndebourne."

"Really?"

"Absolutely. And since you bought the tickets, I'll make the hotel arrangements."

* * *

He opened the door, smiling as he dropped his things in the bowl. "I take it your lunch went well?"

He smiled at her, "She said yes."

"I thought you weren't going to ask."

"It just felt right."

"And is it a date or just best friends away for a weekend?"

He shook his head, a brilliant smile blooming on his face. "I don't know."

"And what do you want it to be?"

"I don't know yet. But I'm looking forward to it."

* * *

"You're doing that wrong."

He looked up from his ironing, "There's a right way?"

She nodded, "Collar, sleeves then the body."

He looked down at the shirt, "It's fine. I'll have a jacket on."

"You're nervous."

Shaking his head, "No, there's no need for me to be jealous. We're just two friends, sharing a weekend away."

"Is that what you really want, friendship?"

"I don't know that it matters what I want. She may not want anything more than friendship."

"But you aren't ruling out the possibility?"

A smile tugged at his lips, "I'm not ruling out anything."

"You should call her."

"I've already talked to her twice."

"Yes, and she was excited to hear from you each time. I suspect she wouldn't mind another call." She smiled, turning away from. "I think I'll go check on our Lyn. In case you want a bit of privacy."

He watched her turn the corner. She always gave the illusion of leaving but he knew if he looked around the corner, she would have simply vanished. He thought about her words, her gentle encouragement. It was never pushy, never ahead of what he needed. Just a subtle reminder of all life had to offer if he was simply open to it.

He grabbed the phone, dialed her number from memory as he paced the bedroom. "Hi, it's me again."

"Hello, me. You sound frightfully like my friend Robbie. Has something happened to him?"

She rolled his eyes, "No, nothing's happened. Just…you know, double checking."

She smiled to herself, "I will be ready at nine AM tomorrow morning. I've called the hotel to confirm and my suitcase is all packed."

"I was thinking we could take our time driving down. Maybe get lunch along the way. I don't know anywhere but…"

"I could search for places online, make some recommendations in the morning."

"You don't mind?"

"Not at all, I'll even pick someplace I know you'll like."

"I want you to enjoy it, too."

"I'll enjoy the company."

He smiled to himself, "Same here."

* * *

He was unbuttoning his shirt, when she spoke. "I'm sorry your weekend was ruined."

Turning he shrugged, "You lose some, you lose some."

"That's a very pessimistic outlook on life. Care to tell me?"

He shook his head, "I was looking forward to it. No matter what might have come of it I was looking forward to going away."

"Robbie, you were looking forward to going away with her. It's OK to admit it. I want you to be happy, my love." When he looked away, she stepped, "If your case ends early, you could salvage some of the weekend."

"We've missed the opera."

"She said she would enjoy the company. I bet she would enjoy it anywhere, even here in Oxford."

* * *

She watched him speak with the maitre'd. It was the third restaurant and the results were the same. No tables. He seemed so disheartened when he walked back to her.

"Same story again." In a very bad Italian accent he mimicked the maitre'd "It's a bank holiday weekend. We should have booked a table."

She laughed to herself, thinking he was very sweet and something else. "Damn."

Robbie's attention was drawn over her shoulder, "Desperate times, desperate measures." Pointing at her, "Wait there."

She watched after him, confused. In a matter of minutes, he returned carrying two wrappers filled with fish and chips. Holding them up proudly, "I promised you dinner."

Laughing out loud she nodded as he offered her one of the wrappers. They walked down the river, finding an empty bench. They each tucked into their wrappers and ate in silence. He heard her moan as she took the first bite. "Who'd have thought that one-day haddock would be a luxury food?"

"Mm, and that we'd get little forks to eat it with."

"Mmm, yeah. I know how to give a girl a good time." They smiled at one another. All Laura could think was it was the best time she'd had in a long time. "I'm sorry about the opera, though."

Shrugging, "Me too."

He looked at her slyly, desperate to ask the question, "Had you booked somewhere nice to stay?"

"Hmm, just a modern little country house hotel in its own grounds and a swimming pool, a gymnasium and a jogging trail. And just to stop you wondering, I booked two rooms."

"Of course." He grinned at her. "It would have been a damn sight more exciting than a quiz weekend though wouldn't it have been." She giggled. "What's the attraction about quizzes, why do people do it?"

She nodded her head. "Compulsive list makers. Clinically speaking they're obsessive neurotics."

Robbie looked around. "Here's a question. If you went on Mastermind, what would be your chosen specialist subject?"

"Hmm, well the thing I know most about is corpses."

Robbie laughed. "That would go down great, barrel of laughs."

"What about your specialist subject?"

He thought for a moment. "Aside from work and the kids, I haven't got one."

She looked at him. "What about loneliness?"

The stared at one another for a moment, tension in the air. Then Robbie smiled, "Pass."

Laura looked away, "I shouldn't have asked."

"It's OK. I don't mind. You're really the only one besides my kids who ever ask me about her."

Reaching over, she took his hand. "You can always talk to me about her."

* * *

She watched him as he walked around the flat. He was pensive, she could feel the tension coiled in his body. Briefly, she considered not appearing, letting him have a moment's peace. When he opened the drawer where he kept her belongings, she made her decision.

"How was dinner?" His shoulders hunched, she could see them shaking, knew he was crying. She reached for him, her hand squeezing his shoulder wishing he could feel her. "What happened?"

He turned to her, shrugging off the touch he couldn't feel. The pain in his eyes made her recoil. "It's her, isn't it? She's the one who makes you go away."


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

 **My apologies for the lengthy delays. My father passed away 2 weeks ago and apparently my muse went with him. I'm hoping she will return and won't be too ridiculously morose in the process.**

She watched him as he bustled around the apartment. It was the first night since he'd come home from his dinner with Laura he'd seemed marginally happy. He'd always loved Halloween, especially when the kids were little.

He'd clung to her over the past few weeks. Rushing home as early as possible. It was like those months when she started teaching him to cook. They chatted about his day, watched telly or read together. Several nights, he'd even made her a cup of tea, setting it on the table in front of her.

He'd never said anything else about Laura since that night. She'd never answered his question and didn't dare approach it again. There was a fear deep within her that he would retreat further if she broached it. It was best to leave it until he was ready. He would come around.

The bell chimed, he put the costume glasses on, grabbed the bowl of candy and headed for the door. When he returned, with James trailing behind him, all of his joy was gone. It broke her heart; it would have been nice if, for a single night, crime could have been kept at bay.

* * *

He heard her car, didn't know how he knew it was her car but he did. Surreptitiously he turned, saw her get out of the car. He held his breath, she looked amazing. She was stepping into her scene suit when James finally noticed her.

Robbie followed as James walked towards her. She half-smiled at them as she pushed her arms into the scene suit, "Boys."

James smiled, "Doctor, you're looking very uh…"

Somewhat surprised it was James commenting on her appearances, she teased. "I was aiming a little higher than uhhhh, Sergeant." She zipped up her scene suit, staring at him the whole time, "But it's the thought that counts. Shall we?"

James, duly chastened, smiled as he looked down. He reached for the crime scene tape at the same time as Robbie allowing her to walk under it easily. Robbie's thoughts were running wild. James wasn't right by half. She looked magnificent. He shook his head; he couldn't have these thoughts. She was the person who would ruin things.

Marshalling his thoughts, trying to keep a benign look he delivered a bare bones run down of the scene. "The body was found just before half eight."

Still annoyed she was at a crime scene rather than in a nice restaurant, she spared him a dismissive glance. "I'll give a once over and that's your lot."

James had to inquire, had to know what her plans were. "Headed somewhere nice?"

She turned to him, "I do have a life you know. A small one but it's my own. And I'm running late so…"

They rounded the corner of the vehicle. The body was shrouded in darkness. She waited as Robbie moved the beam of his torch over the face of the prone woman. Ligeia, her college flat mate, one of her dinner companions for the night. It was the last thought she had before everything went dark.

* * *

Robbie watched her from the distance, sitting alone in the back of an ambulance looking lost. She looked tired, scared. Going to her would mean being drawn closer to her than He ached to go to her but knew he didn't have the right. He should leave it for James but found he couldn't. Drawn to her he deliberately shuffled his feet, not wanting to startle her.

She heard the footsteps, expected it to be one of the paramedics and turned to the noise. To her surprise it was Robbie stepping into the ambulance. It's the closest he'd been to her, alone, since that night on the bench.

She couldn't help but feel somewhat comforted by him, by his presence. It took her by surprise when she realized she wanted him to hold her, to comfort her. At his soft smile she pushed the thought away, making a joke at her own expense, "You'd think I'd be used to it by now."

Her strength never ceased to amaze him. The desire to comfort her, to take her into his arms and hold her, protect her almost overwhelmed him. He shook his head, pushing it away. He could be her friend, nothing more. "Oh, not like this. With a stranger sure, you can find some distance. But…" He motioned back to the scene and then climbed into the ambulance with her. "How did you know her?"

Fighting to keep her emotions in check, not just about Ligeia but her feelings about Robbie, she focused on the facts. "Flat mates, we were at college here together, same year." She took the handkerchief he offered, smiling at his chivalry. "Thanks, we were due to meet tonight believe it or not. Oh God, Ellen will be wondering where we are. Ellen Jacoby, when she's in town we try to get together to meet up, the three of us."

A small piece of him was relieved when she revealed her plans. It wasn't a date; just an evening with friends. He didn't have the right to feel relieved. At the end of the day, he wasn't going to let her get closer. Stepping out of the ambulance, he waved at her, "I'll let you get on with it." He took a few steps away, "Do you have any contact information for next of kin?"

Shocked at his sudden movement She wondered what had prompted him to pull away, "I don't but I'm sure Ellen does. I'll have her call James with the information."

* * *

He watched her sitting on the picnic table. She stared blankly out at the water. He knew she was thinking about her friend and the coincidence of the crime scene. But he wondered if she might be thinking of more.

Closing the distance between them, he smiled as he handed her the drink. "I had them make it extra strong. Figured you need a bit of bracing."

Smiling, she took the proffered drink. "Thank you." She took a sip from the drink, returned to staring out at the water.

He let the silence descend. With someone else, he might feel the need to push, to fill the silence. But with her, he was equally comfortable sitting quietly. They sat at the table watching the river drinking. "Who else was with you? Ellen mentioned a couple of lads."

She took a sip of her drink. "Oh, Peter and Alec. Peter Hawkins and Alec Pickman."

"Still in touch?"

She shook her head. "I saw Alec a couple of years back on the Broad. Not to talk to, I was driving but…"

"Where is he now?"

She looked at him. "Around, from all I'd heard he'd given up poetry to become an artist. He read English, took a gap year and then did his D Phil." She thought for a moment. "To be honest, I think the only reason he stayed on was because of Ligeia."

"They were an item?"

She smiled and nodded. THE item, for her part anyway. Alec was mad, bad and lock up your daughters." She took a drink.

"And Peter Hawkins?"

She shook her head. "I don't have a clue."

"When did you see him last?"

She laughed. "Now you're asking. Couple of days before the after finals bash." She looked at him. "I came down with mumps of all things. So Cinders you shall not go to the ball." She laughed. "My dad picked me up and drove me home. By the time I'd recovered we'd all gone our separate ways."

"So you didn't see him again?"

She shrugged. "I called him a couple of times. But I never heard back. People slip through the cracks if you're not careful."

They stared at the water for a few more moments. Robbie ran his hand up her arm. "Do you want another drink?"

She shook her head, "No, that one was quite strong enough." He smiled, they fell into silence. Each turning to stare at the river. "I've missed our Sunday lunches. I've missed you."

Shrugging, "Just busy. Life, crime…"

"Of course…" She paused, cutting her eyes at him to watch his response, "You'd tell me if I'd done something, wouldn't you?"

Unaware he was being watched, he flinched. He couldn't possibly tell her the reason he was staying away from her. No one could ever know. "No, it's nothing you've done. It was unfair of me to monopolize your time." Turning to her, he smiled sadly, "Like you said, you have a life."

Had he turned one second sooner, he would have seen the pain on her face. By the time their eyes met, she had shut down her emotions, buried them deep within. "Yes, quite right. And I should probably be getting on with it now." She hopped down from the picnic bench, landing easily. "Thanks for the drink. If you have any more questions, about the case, please call."

She was gone before he could muster a response. He watched her retreating form; knowing he had pushed her away. The pain tearing through him was unexpected.

* * *

Robbie was surprised when Ellen answered the door. He supposed he shouldn't be and was somewhat relieved she had someone to look after her. He nodded, "Dr. Jacoby, is Dr. Hobson, Laura, here?"

She smiled, taking a step back. "Of course, she's upstairs. Have a seat in the sunroom, I'll get her."

James followed him in, didn't ask question about Robbie knowing the way around Laura's house. He took a seat and could feel James lurking behind him. A small piece of him knew he should have let James handle this alone. But the rest of him hoped this would push her further away. Perhaps it was the coward's way out but he couldn't lose Val, not even for Laura.

He half stood when she entered the room. Somehow she looked smaller, more fragile. Of course, she was a tiny woman but she'd never seemed small. Once again, the feeling of pain twinged through his body, harder, more urgent, than before.

When she sat, confusion clouding her face, he told her why they were here. At the end of the explanation, she seemed even more confused, "You don't remember speaking to her?"

"That's because I didn't speak to her. When was this meant to be?"

James handed her the paper, "Last call is three weeks ago, October the 8th, 23:10, 9 seconds in duration."

Looking at the paper, she frowned before shaking her head, "Nope. There was…I did get this weird message. But that was eons back."

James handed her another piece of paper, "First call, March the 17th, 20 past 4 in the afternoon 1 minute and 8 seconds in duration."

"Well I don't know if it was this woman but it was a woman's voice. I don't even really remember what she said. Something along the lines of she'd found my number in the phone book and if I was the Laura Hobson she was looking I'd know what it was about."

Robbie watched her carefully, "Anything else?"

She thought for a moment, "Well, it was a bit odd. But I am pretty sure she mentioned Rochester."

From behind Laura, Ellen added, "Rochester, oh I've never been to Rochester."

Laura laughed, happy for the moment's levity. Robbie continued, "And you never called her back?"

"No, I just assumed she got hold of the wrong Laura Hobson." She looked at James who had to look away.

Robbie looked at her. "Look, I know this is going to sound…Can anyone vouch for your movements the night that Professor Willard died?"

Laura laughed certain he was kidding. Her confusion slowly turned to hurt, "Robbie?"

He closed his eyes and shaking his head, "It's procedure."

She looked at James then back to Robbie. When she finally spoke, her voice was softer, hurt. "No, there isn't. I left work about 6:30 and went home. I got ready and I was just about to leave for the Turl Club when I got the call to attend Ligeia. I phoned Ellen and left a message to say I'd be late and I drove straight to the institute." She shook her head at him, anger beginning to build, "Anything else?" Raising her voice, slightly, "Do you want me to account for the night the girl got killed to?"

Robbie closed his eyes, "Please."

She stared, eyes devoid of any emotion, "I took a valium and had an early night. Ellen was watching TV downstairs; she'll tell you I never left the house."

Ellen nodded, "She didn't."

Laura stood, "Unless you need something else, I think we're done here."

Robbie stood, bumping the table between them. "If we have any more questions?"

"I guess I'll have to answer them. Won't I?"

She left before he could respond. The stab of pain returned, almost made him stumble. Ellen stepped forward. "Gentleman, I'll show you out."

* * *

He paced the floor of his flat, Val watching. She hadn't appeared to him yet, had simply watched. She was desperately trying to discern what was the cause of this angst. She hadn't seen him quite this upset since that night.

Finally, when she was certain, he was neither going to calm nor tell her what had happened, she spoke. "What happened?"

He startled, surprised at her sudden appearance, but kept walking. "Nothing."

Motioning with her hand, she mimicked his steps. "So this is all about exercise?" He stopped pacing, turning to glare at her. She smiled, kindly, "Talk to me, Robbie."

"I pushed her away."

Val exhaled, a completely unnecessary action, but altogether human. "Why?"

His stricken look made her take a step forward, reach for him. "You know why. She makes you go away."

She shook her head, "Not her, you make me go away."

"No, I would never."

"Yes, you will, when you're ready."

He shook his head, tears forming in his eyes. "No, I'll never be ready."

"You will be, not today, not even tomorrow. But trust me, my love. You will be ready one day."

His head fell, the tears escaped his eyes, tracking down his cheeks. "It hurt so much."

"I know. But it gets easier."

His head snapped up, "Not missing you, pushing her away."

* * *

Robbie watched her. She still seemed small, like she had that day at her home. But now she didn't seem quite so fragile, simply tired. She never failed to amaze him. Most people would have fallen apart at what she'd been through. Somehow, she seemed stronger.

Laura said something to Pickman he couldn't hear. There was a touch of a scowl on her face, she had clearly rebuffed some attempt from the man. Without a glance back at him, she turned to Robbie. In that moment, when their eyes met, he saw the fragileness return. For the first time, he wondered if the strength was an act. Who took care of her he wondered.

Slowly, but surely, she made a beeline for him. "Robbie, thank you." She placed her hand on his chest, "If you hadn't…"

The warmth of her hand seemed to heal the pain he'd been feeling of late. Val's words built to a crescendo in his head. Laura wasn't the one who would make her go away, he would, when he was ready.

Smiling down at her, "We did. And we always will." She returned his smile, the fragileness seemed to push away. Motioning away from the cemetery, "Blow away the cobwebs?"

They turned, started walking. When she took his arm, he didn't pull away. Instead, he allowed himself to be draw marginally closer as they walked. Today wasn't the day, but one day, they would both be ready.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

He was miserable. When he was home with Val, he wanted to be somewhere else with live people. When he went for drinks with James, he couldn't wait to get home. There wasn't any place he felt comfortable. He'd tried going for Sunday dinner alone and it only made him think of Laura.

It was almost enough to make him call her. He'd ended the call before it could even connect. He hadn't known Val was watching him. She was almost as miserable as him. She hadn't counted on this being so hard. Had been certain after seeing Robbie with Laura it wouldn't hard to push him the right direction.

Now he seemed to be stuck in some in between place and she wasn't sure how to get him to move along. "You should call James. I bet you could find a pub with a match on."

Without looking up from his book, he shook his head. "No, I'm reading."

"You have to eat and there's nothing to cook."

Closing the book, he set it on the table. "Then I'll go to the market." He stood, grabbed his things and left without another word.

* * *

Robbie walked around the store adding a few things to his basket. None of the items were what he really wanted but he'd needed to get away from Val. As he turned the corner for the checkout, he saw another person he didn't really want to see. "Something tells me you are not here for the two for one dandelion and burdock."

James shook his head, taking the basket and relaying the facts, "Suspicious death, Lady Matilda's college." He put the basket with the others as he headed for the door.

Robbie paused, certain he'd heard wrong, "Lady Matilda's?"

"Last all female college in Oxford, just voted to go mixed."

Annoyed at James' smug tone, "I know what it is. So…"

"Holding a Gaudy. The information's a bit sketchy, but one of the guests has been found dead." At his car, James opened the door, "You can follow me."

* * *

Arriving at the college, he was swept back in time. This place would always be irrevocably tied to when he lost Val. He struggled, trying to push the thoughts away. Saw James walk toward the scene, asking for details. He tried to focus on the sound of James' voice, anything that would keep his demons at bay.

"Sir?"

James' voice broke through his reverie and he moved towards it. "Do we know who she was?"

"Poppy Toynton, 32, alumna. Worked here as a development officer. Parents from Whitby. Oh, she shared a house with one of the dons from here, a Diana Ellerby, in Bicester. The accommodations been given over to the guests for the weekend."

They rounded the corner to the stairwell. Laura looked up, "Boys."

Robbie climbed the stairs, "Doctor, what've we got?"

She looked askance at him, trying to remember the last time he'd called her doctor at a scene. Annoyance clouded her voice, "I can't speak for you, obviously, but what I've got is indigestion after another spoilt supper." Nodding toward the body, "What she's got, at first glance anyway, appears to be a broken neck."

"From the fall?"

She walked past him, "Too early to say if it was a fall. According to uniform, there are signs of a break-in upstairs. Scene of the crime are taking a look now."

Kneeling next to the body, he looked around, "What time was she found?"

James, standing next to Laura on the lower level, answered, "Senior Porter called it in about an hour and a half ago."

Removing her gloves, Laura nodded in confirmation, "That'd agree with time of death between 9:00 and 10:00."

He looked down at them, the two people he felt closest to and yet didn't want to be around. "But it was the porter that found her, was it?"

Looking up at him, James continued, "No, it was one of the first year students, doubling up as a waitress tonight for a bit of pin money." He pulled his notebook from his pocket, "Samantha Coyle."

Robbie looked around one last time then went in search of the witness.

* * *

Robbie was nowhere to be found when Laura and James left the building. Laura joined the SOCOs, handing them the evidence she'd collected. She was walking to her car when James caught up with her, "Is there anything I should know?"

Not sure where he was headed with his questioning, she asked brusquely, "Such as?"

James looked at her somewhat perplexed by her tone, "With himself. When I first mentioned this place he got very uh, beady."

Laura sighed, "Well there was a young woman attacked here, nine, ten years ago. A sister of one of the undergrads, uh. Chloe something, Robbie's case."

James looked at her even more confused, "What happened?"

Laura looked down at her shoes, "A couple of days into the investigation his wife got killed."

He stopped walking, stunned, "Oh."

Laura stopped with him and looked up at him, more softly than before, "So keep an eye, eh?"

* * *

Jean stood in the doorway, watching James. He was completely oblivious to her presence. Robbie approached. She shook her head, "I don't think he's been home."

Robbie looked into the office, shocked at what James had done. He stepped into the room, "What's…"

"Shh…" James turned to fuss at whomever was interrupting him. Seeing it was Robbie he removed his earbuds and stood, "Sorry sir, I just wanted to get the last ones in order."

"In order of what?"

"It would have been easier if I had the lid of the box, obviously."

Robbie was confused, there was a lid for the evidence box, "What Box?"

"Jigsaw box."

Jean, more confused than when she had entered the office, turned to leave. "I think I'll leave you to it."

Nodding at the board, Robbie watched James, "And for those of us whose MENSA applications came back labeled return to sender?"

James pointed at the board, "40 or 50 people taking photos of the same event over one evening."

"Right?"

"If you look at one set of photos, you're going to have stonking great gaps. But what one person misses…"

"Someone else might have covered."

"So a few of the sets have gone missing in the interim, but at least a third are time coded. This gives us way points. The rest you just have to extrapolate."

"Based on what?"

"Light levels, level of drink in people's glasses. Who's next to who, who's doing what. It would be easy if I knew who was wearing what. But that's doable. We just get that, shove it in the computer and we're in." Robbie scoffs, James looks back at him, "What?"

Shaking his head, "No, no, it's good. It's just. All this? Why?"

James looked away, asking himself the same question. After all this time, Robbie still didn't understand that he was James' family too. "Well you thought something wasn't right."

Robbie felt as if he'd been gut punched. Val had said James was loyal to him but seeing it like this was overwhelming. "Come on, get your coat."

"Where are we going?"

"To see an old mate."

* * *

They'd made some progress on the case but were still struggling through a few odds and ends. James felt it might be best to continue, "Work it through with a pint."

Robbie looked up, slightly embarrassed, "Ahh…"

He was trying to figure out what to say when he was saved, "Fit, Rob."

He nodded, unsure what James would read into the situation. He watched Alison sit in the chair across from his desk. She smiled at them both, "They're open, you know. Valuable drinking time you're wasting."

He looked up at James, "Join us, James."

Alison chimed in, "Yeah, absolutely. More the merrier."

James shook his head, "No, you're all right. I've got one or two leads to follow up."

Alison questioned him, "This the Toynton case?"

James looked back at her, "Mmm."

"There's been another they're saying on the radio."

Robbie looked back at James, curious as to his reason for suddenly skipping out on a pint, "What leads are these?"

"It's just one or two things. I'll talk to you about them tomorrow."

Robbie nodded then smiled at Alison, "You ready?"

She stood, smiling at him, "Yeah."

* * *

They'd been drinking for most of the night. He was puzzled by Alison. Puzzled as to why she was here with him, puzzled as to why she wasn't still on the force.

"Out of everyone, I thought you'd have gone the distance, taken your Inspector's."

She shook her head, looking at him sadly. "Well, I woke up one morning and my face didn't fit anymore. It was made clear I wasn't going to go any further. There'd been a complaint. Some girl in the canteen, of all places. Civilian." She took a deep sip from her glass. And she said I'd said something. Racial, which I hadn't. But I mean, even if I had, it wouldn't have been anything. Just, you know, a bit of banter between colleagues. And then suddenly they're gonna bust me down to DC."

Robbie was somewhat shocked by her admission. He was almost certain he wasn't getting the whole story but he had no way to refute her claims, he hadn't been there. "Sounds a bit harsh."

"And I thought sod ya. I've always played a straight bat, you know. And for what?" She paused then took a deep breath, recognizing she had turned him off and she needed information, "But enough about me. How are you getting on with Lady Matilda's thing?"

Robbie grunted, no plans on sharing. He took a drink of his beer, stalling for time. She finished her glass then dug through her pocketbook, "Look, I'll get another round and you and fill me in. How's that?"

He nodded, why not share with her. He trusted her and he would like another drink, "Go on, then."

"Like old times."

He watched her walk away, thinking about old times. He missed those days, he missed everything about those days.

They drank for another hour when Alison suggested they leave. As they were crossing the bridge she flung her arm around his back, "Your new boy seems decent enough. Hathaway, is it?"

"James. Yeah, he's a good lad." Robbie smiled to himself as he realized how much he meant the sentiment.

She bumped her hip into him, "Yeah, no…no Ali McLennan though, eh?"

He laughed, "Who is?"

Putting her arm around him again, she curled into him. "You know, one thing I've always wanted to ask. All those late nights and long observations..." They stopped at the foot of the bridge, coming to face one another. She tapped at his chest, "How come you never tried it on?"

"I was married."

She shook her head, "Yeah, well, so were many that did."

"I don't know about them. I loved me wife."

"Simple as that. And now? Got anyone?"

His mind raced, this was a question that wasn't simple. "Come on, who'd have me?"

"Plenty."

He thought about Laura, ached at the thought and what a life with her would mean. Suddenly, he was filled with a deep loneliness. He shook his head, "I'm too set in me ways, to, I don't know, start over. Sometimes I think it'd be nice, but…"

"You shouldn't be alone. You're one of the good guys, Rob."

She pushed up and kissed him. He didn't know how to respond. He didn't feel anything except a deepening of the loneliness.

Allison could tell he wasn't going to respond and pulled back. "Yeah, we should do this again. No strings. You know, just two old coppers out for a pint now and then."

He nodded, "I'd like that." He said the words but knew he had no intention of ever calling her.

"Well you've got my number."

He watched her walk away. The kiss had been meaningless. Even with Frances he'd felt an attraction. Would he ever feel it again? Or was his fear of losing Val impacting every aspect of his life.

* * *

The ringing phone woke him from a restless sleep. His dreams had been filled with thoughts of Ali's kiss and the nothingness he'd felt. As he woke it lingered, made him think of how stuck he was. Lost in a world of make believe and a life he couldn't quite get started.

He fumbled for the phone desperately trying to clear his head of the images. "Yeah."

"Sorry to disturb you so early, sir."

"What is it, James?"

"It's not good news, sir. Alison McLennan was found dead this morning." Robbie's mind raced. What if he'd brought her home with him or gone home with her? Would she still be alive? "Sir, are you there?"

"Where are you James?"

"At her workshop, sir."

"I'm on my way.

* * *

Robbie walked up and grumpily said to James, "Where?"

James motioned to the building and Robbie walked through the door. As he walked towards the body Laura stood and went to him, "Robbie, I wouldn't. It's not pretty."

Anger flared at her attempt to protect him, "Show me." He missed the concern on her face as she stepped aside letting him see the body. He looked at the broken body of the woman he had spent the evening with the night before. A new set of emotions from the night before came rushing back. Rather than thinking about how her kiss hadn't stirred anything within him, he thought about how relaxed he'd been with her. How good it had felt to let go and laugh and reminisce. She had been so alive and familiar and uncomplicated. Suddenly, he wished it had been enough. He scratched his head, "When?"

Laura's voice was soft, gentle, "Early hours, between 2 and 4. She wouldn't have known much about it, after the first, if that's any comfort."

Robbie looked a few seconds more and then turned away. Once again his mind flashed to the evening before, to the moment she kissed him. The offer had been there. She'd said he shouldn't be alone before she kissed him. He was tired of being alone. She would have been comforting, accepting, unchallenging. She wouldn't have tried to change him. And, perhaps, Val would have stayed.

Laura watched him before following. She was unsure what was going through his head but he seemed lost, broken. She touched his arm. He looked down at her and she could see confusion on his face. "I only saw her last night. We went for a drink."

Laura paused for a moment taken aback. He had been with the dead woman last night. She knew he had known the woman but didn't realize they were in touch, that they were seeing each other. She didn't realize he'd moved on. She fell back a step, needing distance, "You were…"

The idea of something uncomplicated that wouldn't force him to move on suddenly seemed appealing, "Could have been. Who knows?" He looked back towards the body wishing he hadn't seen it. He thought about how Laura had tried to stop him, tried to protect him, "I'm sorry if I was uh…"

She accepted his apology, "Brusque."

He smiled sadly, "Oh I was thinking more rude."

She took a deep breath; he'd just lost someone. With a sad smile, she shrugged it off, "You're entitled."

He shook his head, "No, not with you."

* * *

Laura walked towards her car and saw James waiting. She looked up to ask how Robbie was doing just as Robbie walked toward them. James nodded towards Robbie. He suspected Robbie was going to ask her to dinner. With a simple smile, "See you later."

James hadn't needed to say anything. She knew Robbie was hurting. She smiled at Robbie and decided to make him laugh, or at least cringe, "Hot work eh." He groaned at the bad joke as he fell in step beside her. With a quick look down, she made the overture, "Fancy a drink."

Robbie looked at her, grateful she had suggested something, "Make it dinner and I'm paying. I owe you one."

She shook her head. "No you don't"

He nodded at her as she walked away. "8 o'clock The Turl?"

She looked back at him, smiled sadly and nodded.

* * *

They arrived at the same time, both huddled against the cold. He held the door open, smiling as she walked past him. His entire relaxed as he felt a smile light his face. All of his loneliness of the past few weeks disappeared. A peace he hadn't felt in a long time descended.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

He held the brochure in his hands. It was a ridiculous prop. There was no one who would believe he was just randomly standing in the lobby. Truth told, he wasn't quite sure why he was standing in the lobby. It wasn't as if he hadn't seen her.

He'd seen her in the hallways of the station. She'd even joined him and James for drinks a few times. But she only stayed for one and the conversation was always about work. He knew this current distance was his fault. He'd pushed her away, what did he expect?

He hadn't really noticed the gap, or maybe felt it, until Lyn had called. Of course, Val had already known about her news. They'd smiled at one another, but he'd felt the chasm between them widen.

He looked up just as she came through the door and met his eyes, "I won't have the toxicology results yet."

"No, I was just wondering if you fancied a bite to eat, on the off chance."

She smiled kindly, "Oh, sorry, I'm booked."

He paused for a moment then shrugged, "Ah, nevermind." Perhaps coming had been a mistake, perhaps their moment had passed.

"Did you want to talk?"

He nodded, "It'll keep."

She took the flyer from him, smirking at its content, "How to donate a body for medical research?"

He rolled his eyes, knowing she'd seen right through him, "I just picked it up in reception. Our Lyn is on me to sort out my will. Her partner being a financial advisor."

They walked towards the door, "Some cultures believe you can't enter heaven without all your bits intact."

He opened the door and let her go through, "Some of us don't believe in heaven."

She stopped outside the door, regarding him curiously, "You know who asked me about donating their body, Morse. I told him he should help the living and consider donating his organs instead. He said he wouldn't inflict his organs on anyone."

They laughed, eyes meeting. Robbie looked away first and sighed, "All those years…still things change, don't they? Walk you to your car at least?" He held out his arm and she lightly took it.

At her car, Laura dropped her hand from his arm. He looked down at his arm, mourning the loss of contact. "Do you think you might like to have lunch one day this week?"

She tilted her head, "I'm pretty busy this week."

He raised his eyebrows, "I'd make it dinner if that would work better?"

She nodded, "Maybe." Tilting her head towards her car, "I have to go."

"Sure, I'll see you."

He watched her get into her car and drive away. She'd been the only person he wanted to tell about his news. And now it seemed she might not be available to tell.

* * *

He was alone at his desk. All of the thoughts in his mind battled with one another. After all these years back in Oxford, he was more lonely than he'd ever been. Val was in his life but no one else was. He finally realized it was his own fault. In clinging to the past, he might have destroyed any possibility of a future.

Reaching for his phone, he dialed her number, smiling to himself when she answered. "Laura, I know you're busy but all work and no play…"

On the other end, she smiled. "Actually, it's perfect timing. I need to get away from this place and I could give you your results."

His heart leapt in his chest, "Thirty minutes? Lunch?"

"I can't do lunch but I can do coffee."

"I'll take what I can get."

* * *

He got there first, ordered the coffee and waited. It was hard to believe how exited he was. He hoped to broach the subject of resuming their Sunday dinners. He stood when he saw her and waved.

She handed him a folder and started talking before she even sat down. "Prepare for the weird Robbie. Jeremy Swain's cause of death is a first for me in a homicide: starvation."

He fought a smile, happy to have her to himself. "Starvation?"

"And/or dehydration."

He sat back in his chair. "How long would that take?"

"Umm, they say three minutes without air, three days without water and three weeks without food. But it's a moveable feast, to coin a phrase. From his body weight and general health I am estimating he died between four to ten days ago. And he last ate at least two weeks ago, closer to three."

"That would fit with when he disappeared. But he can't have been in the ground that long. He must have been kept hidden somewhere, tied up and gagged. What about this missing finger?"

She handed him the papers. "Left hand, little finger, severed at the base of the proximal phalanx, after death."

Robbie grimaced. "Small mercies." Laura grabbed her bag and moved to leave. "There's something else if you've got five minutes.

She nodded, sitting down again, "Sure.

Robbie motioned to the server and pointed at his cup. He held up two fingers.

She sat back down and looked at him. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Actually I have some news and when I heard it, you were the only person I wanted to share it with." He smiled at her. She looked at him blankly. "Our Lyn is pregnant."

She smiled at him. "Congratulations. That's great news."

"Thanks. She's very excited. She's actually on me to consider retirement. Move up near them so that we can all be together."

She took a sip of her coffee, "And are you considering it?"

He met her even gaze, trying to keep the nerves from his question, "I don't know yet. I feel like I have a life here but maybe up there I could have more. It wouldn't just be about the job."

She shook her head, "Fresh starts can be a good thing. What does James think?"

"I haven't told him yet. You're the only one I've told. You were the first person I thought about telling."

She smiled at him, reaching for his hand, squeezing it gently. "Is that why you stopped by the other day?"

Nodding, he turned his hand squeezing her hand. "Yes." When she didn't pull her hand away, he pushed forward, "I've missed our Sunday dinners."

She smiled, sadly, pulling her hand away. "They were nice."

"Perhaps we could start again?"

Taking a last sip from her coffee, she pushed back from the table. "You should probably make a decision before we talk about that." She stood, smiling down at him, "And you need to tell James."

Before he could respond, she was gone. He watched after her, perplexed by her answer.

* * *

His mind was playing out the conversation with James as he opened the door to his flat. The conversation had gone better than he'd expected. Whether it was because James had taken it well or because he'd built it up in his mind too much he wasn't sure.

Either way, James had been excited for him. Told him he should take the early retirement and be near his grandson. He still hadn't made a decision but knowing James was encouraging somehow made it all seem a bit easier.

The only thing which still perplexed him was Laura's response to it all. Other than encouraging him to tell James, her response had been decidedly neutral. Laura was many things but neutral was rarely one of them. Even when he'd suggested going back to their Sunday dinners she'd remained distant, not answering just encouraging him to speak with James.

He was grateful for her encouragement. It seemed she always knew exactly what he needed. A fleeting thought bounced round his brain as he thought she was always what he needed. A brightly wrapped package sat on the entryway table, stopping the thought before it could take root.

He lifted it, carrying it deeper into the flat. As he turned it in his hands, Val spoke. "Your landlady brought it in."

"Who's it from?"

She nodded toward the bow, "There's a card."

He set the package on the dining table and pulled the envelope from the package and opened it. Pulling the card from it, he recognized the handwriting instantly, Laura.

" _I hope mine is the first present the grandfather to be gets. Laura"_

Shaking his head, "She could have just asked for Lyn's address. I would have given it to her."

"Or perhaps the gift is for you and not the baby."

He scoffed as he pulled at his tie, "Why would she get me something? I don't need anything."

"There's only one way to find out."

Turning away from the package, he started unbuttoning his shirt. "No, I'll post it to Lyn this week."

"And if she asks if you liked the gift?"

"I'm sure Lyn will tell me what it is."

Val rolled her eyes, anger flaring in her. "Or you could just open the damn thing and find out what your friend gave you."

He turned back at her, surprised as much by the tone of her voice as he was by the curse. "Why does it matter? The gift is for the baby, not for me."

"If it was a gift for the baby, she would have given to it for you at the station. She made a point of dropping it off here which means it's for you." Seeing the indecision in his eyes, "I'll go. Open it, don't open it, but stop avoiding the fact you have feelings for her."

Without another word, she disappeared. One second she was there the next she wasn't. He stared at the space where she'd been, her words echoing in the room. He turned, headed to the bedroom, tugging at clothes as he did.

Dumping them into his hamper, he changed into pajamas. No need staying up at this point. Being alone would only make his mood darken. He brushed his teeth then turned back the covers and climbed into his bed.

For a long time, he lay staring at the ceiling. His mind a tangle of thoughts none of which would coalesce. Each lingered just out of reach preventing him from sleeping. Finally, he threw the covers off and launched himself from the bed.

It only took a few steps to make it to the table. He ripped at the paper on the package, tearing the box open. Inside, wrapped in tissue paper, was a battered copy of _Winnie the Pooh_. He opened the cover and saw Laura's handwriting once again.

" _Something to read to your new family member._ "

He smiled as he traced his fingers over her words. He remembered one of his first conversations with Val after he returned. She'd quoted from this book. Had she'd known then Laura would be the one? Tears filled his eyes as he made his way back to bed.

He settled into bed, opened the book, and began reading. " _Here is Edward Bear…"_


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

In the intervening weeks, Robbie read the book almost every night. It was only on the nights he didn't read it that Val would appear to him. The conversations were always superficial, stories about the kids, occasionally about their shared past. But neither of them broached the subject of the future or Laura's role in it.

The book had taken up permanent residence on his nightstand. One night as he was readying himself for bed Val finally addressed the book, "Have you thanked her for the gift."

He paused as he was pulling the t-shirt over his head. "I haven't really seen her to tell. We've been on different shifts. I've only seen her in passing with other people around."

Val traced her fingers across the cover of the book, "You should search her out. It was a very thoughtful gift."

Pulling the shirt down, he shrugged nonchalantly. "I will, when the moment's right."

* * *

James stood at the counter waiting for his order. He looked in the mirror in front of him and saw Laura Hobson at a table with a man who was definitely not Robbie Lewis. He turned and she saw him. He saw something flash across her face that he wasn't quite sure he recognized. He paid the person at the counter and then left.

He looked back through the window, watching her with the younger man. He wasn't sure why but seeing her with another man made him uncomfortable. Pushing the thoughts aside, he walked away from the restaurant.

* * *

He spotted Laura the minute she stepped on the scene. Val's words from the night before rang in his ears. He needed to thank her for the gift. Watching her walk, he missed James tense. He waved at Laura and was surprised when she didn't return the greeting.

She turned away, an annoyed expression marring her beautiful features. Perhaps Val had been more right than he'd given her credit for. Nodding to himself he strode after her. He would find the time to thank her. Perhaps she would let him take her to dinner as a thank you.

* * *

Robbie looked down on the crime scene watching the SOCOs finish with the body. Laura was directing them and their earlier encounter was worrying him. Hearing James behind him, he turned to him. "Laura Hobson was very odd. She didn't know the dead girl, did she?"

James looked out the doors to Robbie. Panic filled him as he suspected the cause of Dr. Hobson's behavior. Not wanting to be caught in the middle of it, he changed the subject throwing Dr. Ganza to the wolves. Robbie halfheartedly engaged in the conversation before leaning over the balcony to look at Laura once again. She chose that moment to look up and caught him staring at her. The look she gave him was aggressive bordering on challenging.

* * *

Entering the morgue, he had fixed in his mind he would thank her for the book, invite her to dinner. Doing it after a notification might not be the best timing but sometimes you just had to seize an opportunity. Perhaps it was time he started doing that more often.

As always, Laura was a calming influence during the notification. She'd steadied him even as the father had given them new information. This new information angered him, made him distrust Ganza even more. Laura was with him as he walked the father of the young girl out of the building. Once the man was out of hearing he asked her the obvious question, "Why on earth didn't Ganza tell us that he was Amy's therapist?"

"I'm sure he had a good reason."

Without warning, anger flared in Robbie. Why was she defending the man? Was this simply doctor's taking care of their own. "Yeah, I can think of one. He shouldn't enter his own patient in an experimental drug trial."

Taking a step back, Laura wondered, briefly, if James had told him what he'd seen. "Or maybe she entered herself? Or maybe he thought it would help her?"

"Yeah, right, stuff her full of psychotropic drugs, that's a great help."

His escalating anger made her even more certain James had told him, "Alright Robbie, calm down."

Hearing the tone in her voice, he suddenly heard his own anger. He could have kicked himself for taking it out on her. He'd come here intent on thanking her, asking her out and instead he was venting his own feelings about psychiatry. "Oh, I'm sorry, I'm just a bit upset."

"About what?"

Robbie looked at her, tried smiling so she would know his words weren't about her or even them. "Isn't it obvious?"

James approached and considered turning and walking away. There seemed to be some tension between them. He hoped Dr. Hobson had told the Inspector, "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

They turned to him. Seeing the expression on James' face the entire conversation made sense. James had told Robbie. The boys were looking after one another. She didn't know why she was surprised, of course, James would pick Robbie. Her look changed from annoyance to icy coldness, "I see." She looked at Robbie, "Well I'll leave you **_boys_** to it." She stared back at James fixing him with one last icy glare.

Robbie was even more confused than he'd been moments earlier. A part of him wanted to go after her, apologize again, beg her to have dinner with him. James talking about the case pulled him back. He shook his head wondering when he would get his next moment to ask her.

* * *

He listened to her voice, if not necessarily her words, as she talked about the drug that killed the young boy. It was the first time he'd seen her since she'd become annoyed with him over something he wasn't sure about. He was angry James had come with me. He'd hoped to have a moment with her to discover what he'd done wrong.

As they were leaving, he got his chance at her request, "Robbie, can I have a minute?" He was surprised by the gentle tone of her voice. After the day before, he'd expected anger, "I don't want there to be any misunderstanding between us."

"Me neither, is there one?"

She shook her head, "Don't make this any more difficult than it already is. I know Hathaway has said something."

"Well he hasn't actually. But he has been…"

Laura interrupted, "He's an old boyfriend."

He looked at her stunned, "Hathaway?"

What he could only describe as horror, crossed her beautiful features. She shook her head, as if dispelling the idea. "No, Franco. He lives abroad and he was in Oxford because there is a chance his firm might send him back here. We had dinner together and it was well..."

Confusion filled him, what was she talking about? "Franco? Like the dictator?"

She smiled, "Yes, only this Franco is German. Don't ask."

He turned to walk away. "I won't." He looked back for a brief second. "Thanks for telling me." Then he walked away. He stalked away, angry. Angry at himself for thinking she could ever want him and angry with her for letting him believe.

* * *

As he watched Ganza reading to his wife, his thoughts turned not to Val but to Laura. It hadn't been anger he'd felt; it had been jealousy. He wondered when he had fallen for her, when he'd started to think of them as a couple.

Had Laura been the reason he'd scarpered his relationship with Frances? Even then had she woven herself into his life so completely he couldn't imagine life without her? And all along Val had known, sensed. Try as he might, he couldn't find it in himself to be angry with Val. She'd encouraged him, gently, to pursue Laura. Had he paid more attention to her encouragement and clung less to his dream of his life with Val, he might not be in this predicament.

He supposed he should consider himself lucky. He might have lost Laura but he still had Val. His life wouldn't be as full as it could have been but it was still something. He would go home to Val, make amends, it would be enough.

As he rounded the corner, it was Laura's laughter that pulled him from his thoughts. Looking around, he was almost certain it was a figment of his imagination. A cruel joke meant to torment him with all he'd lost. But she was there, chatting with someone he didn't know.

As if she could feel his stare, she turned, a half smile lit her face. She waved, raising her eyebrows. He waited, pleased when she excused herself and walked toward him. "What happened to you?"

He shrugged, "Suspect."

"I thought you had James for the hard work."

Shaking his head, "Nah, he's just around to do the paperwork. I do all of the real policing." At her laughter, he nodded toward the exit, "Care to take a walk with me." She fell into step beside him and they walked in silence. Once outside, he broke the silence, "Went to sea in a sieve."

She looked up at him, "What's that?"

"I went to visit Dr. Ganza and he was reading to his wife."

She nodded, "What's he going to do?"

He shrugged, "Go on reading. He's going to stay with her."

"I spoke to her surgeon. There's no chance of recovery. Absolutely none."

"Yeah, I know. He knows. But he's staying."

She paused then asked, "Out of guilt?"

He looked at her, "Maybe, more out of love I think."

They stopped walking and looked at one another, "Sorry Robbie."

He snuffed, "You don't have to be. It's not as if we…"

She smiled at him, "Yeah."

"Think Ganza really proves it doesn't it."

"Proves what?"

"That you don't get many chances. You don't want to waste them." They gazed at one another. Laura was hopeful his words had a different meaning. He smiled down at her, "Can I buy you a coffee, Laura?"

She smirked, "Coffee?"

"Something stronger?"

She smiled and nodded, "Sounds a bit more like it."

Silence fell between them as they walked to the pub. Without another word, Robbie went to the bar to get their drinks and she went to get a table. He watched her as he waited for the drinks. She'd picked a table outside; her face was upturned to the waning sun, eyes closed. Despite his internal bravado, he couldn't let her go, not yet.

Paying for the drinks, he walked toward her. He placed the drink in front of her, "A nice, cool drink for a warm, sunny day."

"Thank you, Robbie."

"Thank you for joining me."

She took a sip from her drink, she smiled at him over the glass. "Why?"

"I thought you were angry with me."

Confusion clouded her eyes, "Why?"

"The other day at the morgue."

She laughed, took another sip, "I thought you were angry with me."

"Why?"

"James saw me, out with Franco. I thought he told you and you were upset."

He shook his head, "He hadn't told me and I wasn't upset with you."

She bit on her lower lip, "And now that you know about Franco?"

"Still not angry. I want you to be happy."

"Happy?"

He took an overly large sip of his drink, almost choking on it. "Of course, I care for you, Laura. Don't you want to be happy?"

She smiled, looking down at the table. Her fingers traced a path over the rough surface. "Everyone wants to be happy." She paused, took a deep breath, "Are you happy, Robbie?"

He shrugged, "Don't I seem happy?"

"For a while, you did. But, of late…"

"Of late, what?"

She tilted her head to the side, "Of late, you seem…lonely. More so than you have seemed since you returned. Did something happen?" He couldn't help but stare, wonder at how she could know so much about him. He was deciding how much to tell her when she spoke. "I wondered if Val was slipping away from you. And perhaps that was causing you more grief?"

He could barely breath. She was so close to the truth. Before he knew what he was saying, the words had escaped. "No, the opposite in fact. It's almost as if she's with me all the time."

At his horror over his words, he missed her look. She blinked once, held her breath in an attempt to control her rapidly racing heart. Finally, she released the breath, slowly, evenly. Picking up her glass, she downed the contents in one swallow.

"I have to go. Thanks for the drink."

He looked up, could sense something was amiss. "I could buy you dinner."

She shook her head, "No, I have a few things I need to do."

He nodded, "Of course, you probably have plans."

Nodding tightly, she turned to leave. A couple of steps away, she stopped and turned back to him. "Robbie, Franco is only a friend now. I was helping him look for a place. The dinner was a thank you."

His heart raced at her words. He called after her, "Thank you." When she turned to him with a questioning look in her eye, he smiled. "For the book, I can't wait to read it to my grandson."

Her smile bloomed, "It's a boy?" He nodded. "Congratulations, grandpa."


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

Val watched him struggle to replace the bandage. Taking it off by himself was the easy part, getting back on straight was a different story. "I bet if you asked Laura she would change it for you before you leave for the day."

He shook his head as he finally got the bandage to stick. "No, I only need it for a few more days."

"You thanked her for the book, didn't you?"

He looked up at her, temper flaring. "You already know the answer to that." At her chastened look, he smiled, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped."

"You've been very temperamental lately. Want to talk about it?"

"No, nothing to talk about."

"Well I'm here when you are ready."

"It's not about being ready, Val. Laura and I are friends, nothing more."

She smiled to herself, "Of course you are. I'm just offering a friendly ear."

Without another word, he grabbed his jacket and left the flat. He drove in silence to the office. He did need someone to talk to but it couldn't be Val. And it couldn't be Laura either. If he was honest with himself, he didn't have anyone to talk with about this.

His phone buzzed, James with a call out. Stopped at a traffic light he read the address in the text. He made a quick turn and was on his way to the scene in a matter of minutes.

Arriving at the scene, the first thing he saw was Laura's car. His mouth went instantly dry, his heart sped up a bit. He had seen her several times since their drink and each time his body had responded the same. How was he supposed to tell Val that? Who was he supposed to tell? James? Innocent? He laughed at the thought as he stepped out of his car.

He entered the home, immediately greeted by Hathaway. James talked him through the case up to that point bringing him up to date on all that he knew. "Hobson's still taking a look but I know who killed her." Robbie stared after the younger man sensing a joke but not sure what it could be. He looked at James expectantly, "Albert Einstein."

Robbie resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Clearly the lad had been spending too much time with Laura and her bad puns. He followed James down the stairs to see the butt of the joke. James continued with his estimation of what happened, "Single blow, to the back of the head with that."

Robbie followed James into the other room, "I presume the bleach is to get rid of the DNA?"

Laura was kneeling next to the body when he entered the room. Casting a mischievous eye toward him, she smiled up at him. "You're learning." She stood as James passed her, "You used to think DNA meant _Don't know anything_."

His heart skipped a beat at her teasing. The dryness in his mouth returned. He couldn't help but return her quip, "Better than thinking that CID stood for _coppers in disguise_." He'd only thought his heart was racing before. When she smiled and laughed at his joke, it beat even faster. Laura smiled at him as she laughed at his joke.

James interrupted them, "If I may, there's a dusting of a plinth from up there which would fit Albert."

Laura added, "Yes, it was thrown down on her from behind to keep the splatter off the killer and then he or she cleaned it up."

Robbie looked at her, "Timing?"

"Can't do better than say 4 hours after 9:30 last night."

Robbie walked away drawn to a book on a side table, "Right." He lifted the book and read the title, "The Gifted Child."

Laura looked up at him with a teasing smile on her face, "Don't speak about Sergeant Hathaway like that you'll give him a big head."

James looked back and forth at the two. Something had changed between them, they both seemed more at ease. Laura stood with her equipment nodded briefly at James then looked back at Robbie and with a flirty smile and a lilt in her voice she told him bye and left.

* * *

Looking up at the knock, he was surprised to see Laura standing in the doorway. "Hang on a minute, love." He looked up expectantly at Laura, placing his hand over the phone.

Her smile when she leaned against the door made his heart speed up. She tilted her head to the side, "Just thought I'd let you know about the results on Elmo and the toxicology report.

He nodded, trying to hide his disappointment that she was here about work. "Oh right, is it very complicated?"

She smiled brighter, "I can make it not so." She stepped into the office unknotting her purple scarf. He watched her, mesmerized by her movements. He barely heard what she was saying, "Ah the lab detected LSD because it was a brain burner of a dosage, absolutely massive. If hadn't jumped he'd have been psychotic for the rest of his life."

The last words broke through his musings, allowing him to form a question. "Could he have taken that amount by accident?"

She shook her head, "Well it's possible but if anyone had a motive to destroy his mind I'd assume the worst."

Robbie heard his daughter's voice on the phone. "Yeah, I'm still here, love." He looked at Laura, "It's our Lyn."

She smiled at him, somewhat less brightly than before, "Ah, give her my love."

He nodded, pleased she seemed interested in Lyn, "Yeah, I will." Hearing Lyn again, he responded, "Yeah, sorry love."

Laura backed away, making to leave, "I'll go."

He motioned for her to stay but she turned and walked away. He followed to the door and watched her walk away. "No, Laura. No, no, just work." He listened to his daughter and walked back into his office. "How's the morning sickness?"

"The morning sickness is fine. Dad, are you OK?"

He sat in his chair and pictured Laura standing in his doorway. He should have gone after her and asked her to wait. "I'm fine, pet."

"Are you sure, dad? You've seemed less, I don't know, settled of late. You'd tell me if something was wrong, wouldn't you, dad?"

Robbie paused, perhaps he could talk to Lyn. "Just feeling a bit lonely lately."

"I miss her too you know. You're not alone in that.

Her words made him sit up straight, "I wasn't trying to imply…"

"I know, dad. I'm just saying you're not in this alone. You can talk to me."

He took a deep breath, "I'm lonely. There are times I can almost feel your mother next to me. Feel like I could carry on a conversation with her."

"I feel that way sometimes too. More of late. It's like she's watching over me."

He inhaled sharply, "She is, Lyn, she is."

"Maybe so, dad. But it doesn't mean either of us should stop living. It's not what mum would have wanted. She would have wanted both of us to be happy." Silence filled the line, "Has there been anyone since mum, dad?" He laughed, the absurdity of the moment finally overtaking him. Lyn's laughter filled the line. "Come on dad, I'm an adult. You can tell me."

"Just one. It only lasted a few months."

"Was it Laura Hobson?"

He shook his head, "What, no? Why would you think that?"

"You used to talk about her more. Lately, not as much. And your conversation a few moments ago was a bit stilted."

Robbie paused, realized this was his opportunity. Taking a deep breath, "There was a moment where I thought there might have been something."

* * *

The case was solved and he felt lighter than he'd felt in weeks. His conversation with Lyn had settled his thoughts. He wanted to see Laura, wanted to revisit the idea of starting their Sunday lunches again. As he rounded the corner, she was there.

He couldn't help the smile on his face when she turned to him. Lengthening his stride, he closed the distance between them. "Look sorry about last night but if you're free now I'm sure James and me will be doing something."

She looked away nervously, "I've got a better idea. Come over next Friday."

He swallowed, taken aback by her suggestion. "To your place?"

Rolling her eyes, she smirked at him, "No, I was thinking more of the mortuary." He laughed at her teasing. She bit on her bottom lip, "I'll cook."

Thinking this might be the perfect chance, he smiled, "I'll bring a bottle."

* * *

He stood outside her door, nervous energy filling him. He had the bottle, actually two, he'd promised. At the last minute, he'd added a bouquet of flowers. He took a deep breath and knocked firmly on her door.

It only took a few seconds and the door opened. She was casually dressed, jeans and a button down shirt. As he looked down at her, he saw her bare feet. There was something decidedly intimate about her not having shoes on.

She smiled up at him, "Two bottles?"

He held them up, "Red and white, I wasn't sure which we would need."

"And the flowers?"

Handing them to her, he smiled sheepishly. "Just a thank you."

"You might want to wait and taste the meal before you thank me."

He laughed, "Smells good enough to me."

She took the flowers, stepping back to let him enter. Pointing toward a side table where there were glasses and a corkscrew, "Why don't you open the bottle of red while I find a vase for these?"

Nodding at her, he moved to the table. Turning his head surreptitiously, he watched her walk toward the kitchen. His eyes drawn again to her bare feet. "Laura, why did you invite me to dinner?"

She turned back to him, smiling brightly. "You said you missed our dinners. I thought it was time maybe we started them again." She looked down shyly, "If that's alright with you."

He couldn't find words to reply. All he could do was nod.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

 **First, my sincere apologies for falling away. After the death of my father, my life sort of went into a tailspin. It has taken me all of this time to finally get my feet back under me. I won't say I am fully healed but I am definitely closer. I can't promise daily updates but I hope to update a couple of times a week as I get back into the groove of writing. I hope you can all forgive me and have some patience as I find my way back to being me.**

 **We pick up with their dinner. After this, I will return to episodes and weaving my story into that one. Enjoy!**

Nodding at her, he moved to the table. Turning his head surreptitiously, he watched her walk toward the kitchen. His eyes drawn again to her bare feet. "Laura, why did you invite me to dinner?"

She turned back to him, smiling brightly. "You said you missed our dinners. I thought it was time maybe we started them again." She looked down shyly, "If that's alright with you."

He couldn't find words to reply. All he could do was nod.

* * *

Dinner was stilted at first but gradually, they fell into an easy banter. As they lingered over the remnants, Laura sat back in her chair, eyeing him over her wine glass. At her speculative glance, he laughed, "What?"

She shook her head, "It's nothing."

Raising an eyebrow, he fixed her with his best policeman's gaze. "It didn't look like nothing."

Frozen under his stare, she inhaled sharply, holding the breath. Finally, she exhaled steadily, "Why didn't you ever reschedule?"

They stared at one another, neither wanting to be the first to break the gaze. Robbie was the first to look away, struggling to catch his breath, struggling to find an answer. Seconds ticked by, made even longer because of the desperate silence between them.

"Robbie, are you OK?"

It was the gentleness in her voice which pulled him back. Finally able to draw a breath; he calmly met her eyes. "I got scared."

"Of me?"

"Of losing you."

"Where did you think I would go?"

"You almost died, Laura."

It was her turn to look away. Shocked at his words, having never given thought to how those twins actions would have impacted him. Swallowing, she forced herself to look back at him, "We never really talked about it."

He shrugged, "I didn't want to push. You seemed to put it behind you."

"And then your friend died. That can't have helped. A burgeoning relationship…"

He shook his head, "No, not a relationship."

"But you said…"

Looking down, he remembered what he'd said to her, "I don't know why I said it. She kissed me and even while it was happening, I knew it wasn't right." Raising his eyes to meet hers, "I suppose I said it because to have admitted I felt nothing with her broken body less than 20 feet away would have made you think less of me."

"Me?" He nodded. "Robbie, there's nothing you could do to make me think less of you." Seeing his confused look, she laughed. "I said that badly. I simply mean... There's nothing you could do to change what I think or feel about you."

"I've missed this..." Pausing, he took a deep breath and met her gentle gaze. "I've missed you."

"I've been right here, waiting."

"Laura, do you think we could start our Sunday dinners again?"

Her smile was soft but still breathtaking. "I thought you'd never ask."


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

 **Sorry, again, for the delay. Nothing tragic this time, I've just been writing something else. Alas, it is not fanfic and it might never see the light of day but it has rather consumed me. But here we pick up with The Soul of Genius. I have actually never written about this episode which is shocking because it might be one of my favorite in the entire series. Celia Imrie is simply magnificent. I also thought her chemistry with Robbie was quite good. Let me know what you think.**

Standing still was its own form of punishment. There had been a time in his life, not too long ago, where he would have given anything to make time stand still. Now, well now, he wanted something to happen. What, he wasn't sure, but it was time for something.

The ringing phone dragged him from his thoughts. He laughed to himself. Perhaps he should be careful what he wished for, "James…"

* * *

He watched her walk toward them, a grumpy expression on her face. Cocking his head to the side, he noticed her shorter hair, tried to remember when he'd last seen her, surely it hadn't been that short then. If it had been and he hadn't noticed, there would be hell to pay.

She was talking before she even got close to them. Her voice further expressing the grumpiness on her face. "Male, adult, must have been in there a couple of weeks. First inspection reveals blow to the front right side of the skull above the temple. Probable cause of death." Looking back to the body, dismissing them with her words, "All pretty straight forward really."

Turning back to them, seeing their looks she shrugged. "It's my day off. I had plans. I was trying to have a life. Instead of which, as usual, I'm up to my knees in body parts." She took a deep breath, shaking her head, "Sorry." Opening her eyes, she met Robbie's even gaze, "I don't think there'll be any surprises in the postmortem. But the grave's pretty interesting. The body was wrapped in a fine cloth, very fine."

Holding a bag out to them, "And this was laid on the chest."

Robbie took the back, examining the hand-crafted cross it contained. "He was buried with some ceremony, then."

James eyed the cross, "And care."

Manipulating the second bag, she turned it for them to see, "There's an inscription on the back. "

Robbie took the bag, flipping the watch to see the inscription, "Nulli secundis."

James automatically translated, "Second to none."

Nodding toward the body, "Who found him?"

Pointing to a young woman behind them, "Liv Nash. She's a botanist based at the Botanic Gardens."

"What brought her all the way out here?"

"They were doing some conservation work."

Nodding James towards the witness, Robbie fell into step beside Laura. Looking over his shoulder to make sure James was out of earshot, "Sorry about your plans."

She shrugged, her voice softened, "It's alright."

"No, you need some time off."

"I'd only booked the day, Robbie. It's not as if I had plans to run off to Gretna Green."

He looked down at her, shocked by her words. Was she implying there was someone in her life? "When's the last time you had a real vacation?"

"When's the last time you did?"

Holding up his hands in surrender, "Alright, I give." He paused, "I know I wasn't part of your plans but how would you feel about dinner?"

She shook her head, "No, but thanks." Pointing toward the SOCOs, "I'm just going to hand off this stuff and then head out, make the most of what's left of my day. Nine sharp." He nodded at her retreating body.

* * *

The last place either of them wanted to be was calling on Michelle Marber. But they had to before she damaged the case further. Robbie took the lead on the approach to her front door. He rang the bell before noticing the door was slightly ajar.

Concern tickled the back of his conscience as he pushed the door open. It was replaced by disgust and alarm as he realized the walls were papered with notes and pictures as if she was running her own investigation. Colored yarn connected dots of evidence probably only clear in her mind.

James was the first to speak, "It's an incident room."

Robbie looked up noticing the name printed in charcoal on the ceiling. He wondered if it hadn't been for the kids and the job if this could have been him.

"I like to lie on the floor sometimes, look at the whole picture. I think if I can see it all in one glance, I might understand it better. But I never quite seem to."

"Mrs. Marber, we hear you've been out and about with your little notebook again."

James shifted uneasily from one foot to another, anxious to be anywhere but here. "I'll check the rest of the house."

"Mrs. Marber?"

Turning back to Robbie, she seemed surprised to see him, "Oh, Inspector. Yes, sorry, how can I help you? Would you like a cup of tea?" Walking away, she muttered to herself, "I don't know if I've got any tea."

Robbie followed her, trying to stay on topic, "We warned you that impersonating a police officer was a criminal offense, as is harassment. You've been making trouble again."

Hathaway screamed down the stairs, "Sir."

"Mrs. Marber!"

Again Hathaway's voice beckoned, "Sir!"

"What?"

"You've got to come have a look at this."

Shaking his head at the circumstances, "Oh, for God's sake." He turned away from Mrs. Marber and made his way to the stairs. He followed James into the room; all of his anger evaporating. He recognized the depth of anguish this woman was in and he knew that but for the grace of God, this could be him.

The shrine to her son was heart-wrenching. His eyes lingered on the pictures of the boy at all ages of life. When a spouse dies a person becomes a widow or a widower. When parents die a person becomes an orphan. But when a child dies, there is no word to describe the parent, almost as if the English language can't comprehend the loss and dares not define it with a simple word.

Her footsteps behind them seemed heavier as if they felt the weight of his own guilt. She smiled softly at him, "Stevie, my son." Casually, she replaced the dying flowers with live ones. "He was found dead at his room. He was doing his post-grad at Carlyle College. The coroner returned 'death by misadventure', and overdose. But she was wrong. Stevie would never have been so stupid." Looking back at the flowers, "It's an overused word these days, but he was…" Tears pooled in her eyes as she looked away, "He was a genius. My miraculous boy. My little pal."

Robbie's voice was softer, "Michelle, why didn't you tell us?"

Wiping away a tear, "Oh, I've learnt it's the surest way to be dismissed. They give you a little card with a number on it, a helpline. Least as Miss Marple, I got a few extra days, got a little bit closer." She paused, "I started by going backwards, trying to piece together the last days, but it was all too confusing." She walked past them, leading them toward her work. "So I started at the beginning. I must have visited every day of his life since he left me. But I still don't know why he died."

Reaching her destination, she pointed to photos on her desk, "That was his first day at Davy Institute. His first day as Alex Falconer's research assistant. All that promise, all that excitement. And no idea what was to come."

"What happened?"

Looking back at Robbie, a steely gaze, "Alex Falconer, never satisfied. Nothing Stevie did was good enough. He didn't work hard enough, he wasn't rigorous. Stevie had his own way of working. But Alex Falconer was such a narrow… He sacked Stevie. And then he came to the inquest and he stood up there in front of me and told me that my son was a drug addict. My son did not die of an overdose. My son would never have been so stupid."

"How do you think he died, Michelle?" She swallowed, fighting tears. Robbie stepped aside to let her pass. "But you blame Alex Falconer for his death?"

"I don't know what he did. I don't know how it happened."

He followed her down the stairs, "You actually think he killed him?"

Looking back at him, "Yes, yes I do. With every fiber of my being."

Incredulous, Robbie continued pushing her. "But why? Why would he kill your son?"

"Perhaps Stevie found something out, something about Alex."

"Like what?"

Breaking down, she shook her head, "I don't know, I don't know."

Gutted by her anguish, he patted her on the back. "All right, I'll put a brew on."

James leaned forward, lighting her cigarette. She smiled up at him, "You're rather nice, you two." James smiled kindly.

Robbie called from the other room, "Michelle, you've got nothing in!"

"Oh, I can't be bothered to eat. I just need to sleep."

Robbie returned, nodding toward James. He pulled some money from his pocket, whispering, "Nip out get her a bit of shopping in, will you? I don't know, simple stuff, teabags and milk?"

James nodded then turned to leave. Robbie waited until he was gone then return to Michelle. "You can't let yourself go. Stevie wouldn't want it."

She looked up at him sharply, "How would you know? How do you know what I'm going through?"

"My wife was killed. Hit by a drunk driver."

"Did they find the person?"

He nodded, "My sergeant did."

"Is that how you got over it?"

He paused at her words, realizing that to some extent he was over it. There wasn't the mind-numbing pain that had been his constant companion for so long. But it wasn't finding the man, it was the people he surrounded himself with. "It was just time? But you can't isolate yourself like this. I know from experience it doesn't help. It just keeps you alone with your ghosts."

* * *

They sat alone at the table, drinking a pint, James smoking. The clues taunting them, drawing them closer only to push them further away.

James crushed out the cigarette, "The impossible quest."

"I can feel myself disappearing." Robbie took a sip from his glass, watching James brood. "Are you all right?"

James sniffed at the material of his jacket. "My clothes smell of dry rot. Murray's house." He paused tapping his hand on the table, frenetic energy pulsing through him. Picking up his glass, "All of these lonely people pouring their lives into puzzles that can't be solved." Putting his glass on the table, "Ah, ignore me. I've got a touch of existential flu." He looked over at Robbie, noting the concern, "What?"

Taking a deep breath, Robbie dove in. "I am going to say it, just this once. For your sake, you need a partner, James. You need someone in your life. Let's call it a day. I want to check on Michelle." Seeing the concerned look on James' face, "I'm just going to look in, make sure she's okay."

* * *

Once again, the door was open. He pushed it and entered, calling her name, "Michelle?"

Relief flooded through him when he heard her call back, "Upstairs."

Climbing the stairs, he lectured her, "You must remember to lock your door." Seeing the discarded, lit cigarette, he shook his head as he picked it up. "And please, stop leaving lighted ciggies all over the place." He stubbed out the cigarette, "You're like a walking public safety warning, woman."

Smiling back at him, "I know, I know. I've just got too much to think about. Have you got some news for me?" Seeing the look on his face, "No, no, on second thoughts don't tell me."

He shook his head, "What do you mean?"

Pausing, she looked away then back at him. "Stevie dies a hundred times a day in my head. I see it, his last breath. It plays on a loop. And then I fall asleep, and I dream. I dream that I can't get through the door. If I could get through the door, I could save him. If I knew how he died, at least I could stop imagining it." She walked past him to the landing, "But then, if I knew, would I not just imagine that? And what if it's worse?"

Robbie followed her, leaning into the door jamb, "If you knew, you could think less about his death, and more about his life."

She turned away from him, "This investigation, I'm not finding anything out. All I'm doing, really, is retracing his steps." Sitting on the top step, she continued, "I go to a coffee bar and sit in a chair and I think 'Maybe this is the chair he sat in'. And I can almost feel his presence. But as soon as I feel it, it's gone. It slips away from me like mist under the sun."

Looking away from her, "Softly and suddenly vanishes away." He met her curious gaze, "My wife. I think about her every day. But about it, about the accident, only every other day now. I think about her as she was, her laugh, her smile. I miss her. I talk to her all the time, around the house. Don't tell my sergeant. But I don't relive it, not anymore. Well, anyway, not as often."

"How did you get there? I don't know how to get there."

He sighed, "I think it was when I accepted it. When I stopped fighting it." Pulling at his collar, he shook his head, "But how it happened? I couldn't tell you."

* * *

His words to Michelle Marber echoed through his mind on the drive home. He couldn't help but wonder if they'd been true. Had he really stopped fighting it, learned to accept it? Parking in front of his building, he looked at his front door. It was true.

The only part that hadn't been true was when he said he couldn't tell her how it happened. He knew how it happened. It was the people in his life who kept him anchored, Lyn, Patrick, James. And, even more, Laura. Suddenly, he didn't want to go inside, didn't need to see Val.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, he pressed the two button and waited for the call to connect. The second he heard her voice, he smiled. "Laura, if you're not too busy having a life, do you think you might like to have dinner with me?"


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

He held the cold bottle up to his nose. It probably wouldn't hurt nearly as badly if he didn't keep laughing. He pressed the button to rewind the footage of him on the news again, unable to help himself.

"Aren't you a bit long in the tooth to be running around playing cops and robbers?"

"Who's playing, I am a copper."

"You're not that kind of copper."

He shrugged, "Just a spot of fun, no harm, no foul."

Nodding at him, "Your nose would suggest otherwise." She leant in closer, "You should get that checked. Perhaps Dr. Hobson could take a look?"

Taking a long pull from the bottle, "Nope, I'd have to be dead for that." Tipping his bottle towards her, "What happened to calling her Laura?"

She smiled, "Figured if I reminded you she was a doctor you might be more inclined to call her."

"It's just a bump, Val."

"Perhaps, but it never hurts to press your advantage."

"And what advantage is that?"

Walking away, she called over her shoulder, "Injured, hero cop. How on earth could she resist?"

With the words echoing in the air, she disappeared. She seemed to do more of that lately, almost as if she sensed he didn't need her as much. There were times he missed her but, of late, it didn't hurt as much when he realized it.

Putting down the beer, he slowly unbuttoned his shirt. At least he hadn't gotten any blood on it. As he stripped it off, he briefly considered calling Laura. Not because Val had suggested it but because he wanted to call her. Lately he wanted to call her more frequently. Actually, had called her more. No, he wouldn't call her tonight. Didn't want her to think he'd only call because of his nose.

* * *

Leaving the dead woman's flat, he was pleased to find Laura waiting, even if she had a grim expression.

Holding up the evidence bag, she dove right in, "In the bathroom. Painkillers. Bottle of these, half a bottle of vodka, lie on the bed, fade out."

"So it is suicide?"

"Don't jump the gun, Inspector." Smirking up at him, she caught her first real look at his face. "Hey, what have you done to you face?"

"Haven't you seen the telly? How me and Hathaway took down the notorious Jones drug cartel of Sheepridge?'

Nodding in disbelief, "You were on the television? I can't believe I missed it."

Shaking his head,, "Oh, well, my 15 seconds of fame, me."

Pointing back at the hearse, "She had her 15 seconds, too. Wrote a book back in the 90s, how women could survive without men. It was quite influential."

Looking back at her, he teased, "Did it influence you?"

He almost laughed at her look of disgust, "No, course not. I came to that conclusion years ago."

He watched her walk away, a smile teasing at the edge of his lips. He never quite seemed to get in the last word. "I've got it recorded if you want to see." She turned back to him with a questioning glance. "Me on the telly. I'll throw in a takeaway."

"The only crime I care about is who killed that woman." Nodding at the hearse pulling away, "Get back to your day job."

It took all of his professionalism not to laugh. Nope, he was never going to get in the last word.

* * *

This case was rubbing him the wrong way. The isolated life Miranda had led. If he dwelled on it too much, it made him think of his own life. Or at least what his life had been, before Michelle Marber. But still, there was a parallel, one that hit entirely too close to home.

Laura's voice dragged him away from his thoughts, "Ah Robbie, I need to talk to you."

He put on his jacket. "I've just been to an internet dating site."

She paused for a moment a peculiar look on her face. Perhaps this was the moment he would get the last word. Smiling up at him, "Meet someone nice?"

Of course, she had a cheeky retort, "I said to, not on. And it was for work not the other."

"Glad to hear it. Not that there's anything wrong with the other. Over 20% of all married couples now meet on the internet. So I am reliably informed by the magazines at my hairdresser's."

"Going online exposing yourself to millions of strangers, I don't know."

She shrugged, "Well don't knock it until you've tried it."

He looked at her. He couldn't tell by the look on her face if she was serious. "You haven't?"

She scoffed. "Oh, a single woman, my age, any age. What are we supposed to do? Hang around in bars like…"

"Like lumberjacks?" He smiled at her as he reached for the door.

She looked at him skeptically, "Exactly. Online you can reveal yourself relatively painlessly."

The door opened and DI Peterson stepped out of the building. "Oh Lewis, I um I saw you on telly." He patted him on the back. "Good stuff." He walked between them then turned back, "Oh um." His voice lowered as he looked at Laura. "I'm sorry, we haven't met. I'm kind of the new boy round here." He put his hand out to her and smiled. "Alan Peterson."

She took his hand and returned the smile, "Laura Hobson. Got any dead or mutilated bodies, I'm your girl."

He raised his eyebrows. "I'll bear that in mind." He turned and walked away.

Robbie watched the interchange. He didn't like action man flirting with Laura and he wasn't sure about the look on her face. He pulled open the door, letting her walk through first. Once inside the building, she was all business.

"Anyway, the reason I was looking for you was Miranda Thornton."

"Oh, please tell me she was murdered."

She stopped walking, "Is that what you want?"

Turning back to her, "Not what I want. But I prefer that to the idea that her life was so unbearable she decided not to wake up again."

"Well the jury's still out on that, I'm afraid. Blood alcohol was high. Stomach contents confirm the ingestion of painkillers, certainly enough to kill her."

"So why's the jury still out?"

Looking back at him, "There was some odd material in her lungs. Spores and fragments of herbs: sage, rosemary, thyme."

Hathaway joined them at the intersection, "It's like Scarborough Fair." At their identical looks, he explained, "Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme? Remember me to one who lives there?"

Robbie rolled his eyes, "Yea, never mind that. So, you're saying Miranda was sniffing herbs? Nobody inhales rosemary."

James continued his obtuse comment, "You do if you've been listening to too much Simon and Garfunkel."

Robbie grumpily turned to him, "We're trying to have a sensible conversation."

Before they could devolve, Laura interjected, "The fact is, I don't know what it means. We're doing some more tests, but until then…"

Laura walked away without a further word. James shook his head, at her abrupt departure. "Was I interrupting something?"

Without hesitation, Robbie answered, "Yes. So, what have you been doing?"

* * *

He was lecturing Hathaway, still not believing David Connelly's story when Laura interrupted. "No, he's not." Stepping right up to him, she met his angry glare, "Your theory's rubbish."

"Oh, thanks very much. Which theory?"

"That she was murdered. I did check. From the levels of alcohol and co-proxamol in Miranda's blood, the painkillers were not ingested postmortem. She was alive when she took them."

"Then who put the bag over her head?"

Laura shrugged, "She did."

"What? Pills, booze and a bag?"

Laura inhaled deeply, trying not to lose her temper. "With pills and booze, there's no guarantee that you won't throw up or be discovered before they've worked. The bag guarantees it."

Annoyed at her theory, he turned away. "That's just speculation."

Walking around to confront him, "No, Robbie, it's deduction based on facts. My version explains the absence of struggle in the house, injury to the body. Your version is just a fantasy."

James had been watching with fascination. This was the second time in the same day they had seemed to forget his existence. This felt more like a lover's quarrel than a disagreement between colleagues. "I am here you know." At their angry glances, he decided to press his luck, "I could go."

Pointing at James, Robbie looked back at Laura. "You stay. So you're ruling suicide?"

"I'm ruling an open verdict."

"What, then you're still not certain."

Again, she took a deep breath, "I believe she killed herself."

"What, you believe a brilliant woman killed herself because of some internet video? Wouldn't she fight, try and find out who leaked it? Instead of just…just giving up?"

Realizing there was no winning this argument, she chose not to continue to fight. "You'll have my report in two hours."

She walked away, leaving him angry, still spoiling for a fight. He thought about following her but Gurdip was in his way. Pulling his gaze from her rapidly retreating frame, he focused on what Gurdip had to say.

* * *

It had been days since he'd seen her. Their argument seemed to loom larger the longer he went without seeing her. Her report had arrived within the hour, not the two hours she'd promised. And since then, nothing.

His last words to David Connelly played over in his head. "What did she do to you?" Clearly, they had meant something to one another. Was it something big that had torn them apart or something stupid left too long that created a gaping chasm neither was willing to bridge due to foolish pride.

Would that happen to him and Laura? They'd never really fought before, not like this. If he left it go would it grow and fester, create a divide they couldn't repair? The thought was starting to take seed in his brain when his phone chimed. Carefully he pulled it from his pocket, relief seeping through him when he saw it was a text from her. " _Can we talk? The Trout half an hour?"_

* * *

He'd beat her to the pub and found a table. He waved at her when she came in, smiling as she sat. "Your usual?"

She smiled at him, watching him walk away. The file he'd left behind drew her attention. Checking to make sure he was occupied, she rifled through it unsurprised to see it was about the case. When she saw him coming she quickly pushed it back towards his seat.

She took the drink from him as he sat, "Thanks and thanks for meeting me."

He nodded. "My pleasure. Cheers." He looked at her feeling the gap between them, so different from their interactions before the row.

She took a deep breath then looked at him. "Sorry Robbie I was being a real cow."

"No, my fault, wanting something to be true and not waiting for all the facts." He smiled at her.

She took a sip of her drink. "Think you've got them all now?"

He motioned his head toward the file, "No, but she's dead and we move on."

She moved her hand toward him and placed it on the file in front him. "Except not if you're taking her home with you."

He looked down at her hand. For a second, he thought about covering her hand with his. Instead, he took a deep breath. "She took a risk. Took a look at her life, tried to change it and she got destroyed."

She smiled at him. "Doesn't mean you shouldn't take a risk." They stared at one another each afraid to say what needed to be said.

"Lewis, Laura." DI Peterson called as he strode to the table. "I didn't know you came here it's my favorite pub. You don't mind if I uh…"

Laura shook her head. "Not at all."

He grabbed a chair and pulled it to the table sitting between them. "Oh great, thanks." Robbie looked on shocked, not really sure what was happening.

Peterson looked at Laura. "Well Oxford on a summer's evening is there a lovelier place in the world."

She smiled brightly at him. "Not a one. Where were you before?"

"Oh Sunderland, it's not exactly…"

Robbie interjected. "Steady no slandering the northeast."

Laura laughed as Peterson interjected. "Sorry, my lips are sealed. Cheers."

The trio sat in awkward silence. Finally, Robbie couldn't take it anymore. He drained the last of his pint, picked up the file and stood. "I have a case to solve. Or maybe not. Either way, have to be getting on."

Laura stood, too, almost knocking over the table. "Actually, I have to get back, too. Crime never sleeps."

Alan laughed, "You two must be the most dedicated members of the Oxford Police department."

"What can we say, Peterson, not everyone gets to bust into places and get press coverage. Some of us just have to track down cold-blooded killers."

Laura had to hide her smile as she followed Robbie from the pub. Once outside, laughter spilled out of her. "You really don't like him."

Looking back at her, "No, it's not that I don't…"

"You don't like him, it's ok. I'll keep it to myself."

At her teasing smile, he relaxed for the first time in days. "Alright, I don't." Pausing for a second, he decided to take a risk, "I don't have to be anywhere, care to take a walk?"

* * *

The case was solved, he'd invited Laura out to celebrate but she'd had plans. Instead he was here, drinking with Hathaway. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't mind, it was a tradition after all. Today though, his thoughts were with Laura, and taking a risk.

His fear was if he left it too long, they might not take the risk. They might become a version of Miranda Thornton and David Connelly.

"Miranda and Connelly. In love with each other for 20 years and never said a word."

James responded without looking up from his book. He wanted this line of conversation but didn't want to seem eager. "Scared of rejection."

"So they bury themselves in their work, become very successful…and very alone."

Daring a single glance up, "Now who does that remind me of?"

Robbie glared at him, James looked over a smirk lighting his eyes. Robbie nodded at him, "Out with it."

"Nothing, sir." He took a sip from his bottle, "But I do find it odd how passionate you and Dr. Hobson were about this case."

Robbie shrugged, unable to meet James' eyes, "No more than usual."

"A lot more than usual. You've bickered in the past but nothing quite like this."

"What are you trying to say, James?"

"I'm not saying anything, sir, merely pointing out a change in interactions." He looked across the lawn, smiling to himself, "If I were saying something, I would say that type of passion probably shouldn't be kept locked away for 20 years."

Robbie had to look away, frightened by how close James' words had mirrored his thoughts. James watched him from the corner of his eye, knew he'd pressed his luck as far as he could. Carefully placing his bookmark where he'd stopped reading, he drained the last of his beer. "Sir, I have my own passions to pursue. Have a lovely evening."

James was gone before he could respond. His words about locked away passion lay heavy in the air. Was he ready to take that risk? If he took it, Val would leave. Would he gain enough to make it worth it?


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

 **Sorry for the extended delay again. I've been writing something else, not fanfiction but a work of fiction. Who knows if it will ever see the light of day but it's been great fun. I couldn't sleep last night (well all week actually) and I watched Lewis and this is what happened. Hope you enjoy. I'm think 5-7 more chapters.**

He was sleeping. Even asleep he was restless, just as he had been at home and at work. It had become increasingly obvious to her he wasn't going to take the risk. He was stuck in the netherworld of living with her and being friends with Laura. She'd tried going away for longer period of times, being less available, to see if it would spur him into action. But during those times, he only spent more time with James. Laura only involved as a secondary thought.

Even their Sunday lunches had dwindled. Those weren't all down to Robbie, Laura had cancelled one or two. She suspected the younger woman was seeing someone. If she wanted to, she could confirm that fact but it seemed rude. In all honesty, she couldn't blame Laura. She was a beautiful, smart woman, any man would be fortunate to spend time with her.

But despite all of it, Robbie still resisted. Each time she thought he was finally moving forward, he would slide back. And each time he slid back, he slept less and less.

The ringing phone made her curse. This early, it could only be James, which meant a case. As he reached for the phone, she caught him looking around, looking for her. Briefly, she thought of appearing. Her anger at him for failing to move on kept her invisible.

* * *

It had been a long day filled with a frustrating case. He'd hoped to come home and find Val waiting. But as seemed to be the case more and more of late, she wasn't here. He made a cup of tea, briefly thought of fixing something to eat then let the thought go. Carrying the mug with him to the bedroom, he collapsed on the bed.

He wasn't really sure how he'd reached this point. For a brief moment, he'd felt as if he and Laura were on the precipice of something. And then he'd let it slip through his fingers, an ephemeral instant gone with the blink of an eye.

Occasionally, he caught a glimpse of what might have been. Even today, at the crime scene, there had been a lilt in her voice when she left. It was in those moments, he wanted to chase after her and finally ask her out, ask her to take a chance with him, on him. But then the idea of never seeing Val again would take purchase in his brain and he would let the moment pass.

Looking over at his nightstand, the photo of the two of them made him smile sadly, a bleak feeling. It had been days since he'd seen her which seemed to be the status quo of late. Where she used to be waiting for him when he came home, more often than not lately, she wasn't. Just when he'd begun to think she was gone for good she would turn up. He wasn't sure if this was worse or better: the fear or the hope.

His eyes slid to the left, to the more recent photo. Him holding Jack. Before he could change his mind, he dialed Lyn's number praying she would answer.

Relief flooded him when she finally did, "Hi, love, it's your dad."

"I know it's you, dad. If your name on my phone wasn't enough of a clue, your voice would be."

He chuckled to himself at her goodnatured teasing, "Yeah, I know. I just like to hear myself say it sometimes."

"Are you OK, dad?"

"I'm good. Just a rough case, young girl killed, not too much younger than you. Needed to scrub my mind of the details. Tell me something good about my grandson."

"Well, I'm not sure I have much good to tell you, dad. Your grandson has spit up on me three times today and, at the moment, I am wiping strained carrots from my hair."

He laughed, fondly remembering those days, "Payback for all of the times you did it to your mum and me. I can't tell you how many times I had to change shirts from you spitting up on me."

"So, what you are telling me is I simply have to wait until I am a grandparent and then this all becomes amusing."

"Well, that and always have a cloth handy to prevent such accidents."

They continued their conversation, talking about nothing at all. However, when Robbie ended the call, he felt much better.

Mindlessly, he scrolled through his contacts then pushed the button to place another call. He held his breath as he waited for the call to connect.

"Robbie?"

"Hey, Laura. I saw your note about the PM. Do you think I could talk you into breakfast tomorrow in exchange for the results?"

"Sorry, Robbie, I can't. I'm testifying in the morning." She paused, when he didn't respond she added. "I could spare some time for a quick cup of coffee then you could walk me over."

"Yeah, that could work, what time?"

"Eight?"

"Sounds good, my treat."

"I should hope so, since you asked me."

He smiled to himself, "See you then, Laura."

He ended the call, tapped the phone against his lips as he smiled.

"Well it's about time."

Closing his eyes, he sighed. As much as might have wanted her here earlier, now he didn't. "About time for what?"

"That you asked her out."

Dropping the phone on the bed, he started stripping off the day's clothes. "It wasn't like that. I need the results, breakfast is usually a good time to catch her."

"You could have read the results yourself. Or had James read them and translate for you. You called her because you want to see her."

Anger flared in him, "Why, Val? Why does it have to be her? Why can't it be one of a dozen other women? I meet interesting, attractive women all the time. Why can't I ask one of them out? Why are you pushing me into her arms? Are you ready to be rid of me? You're dead, Val. You got rid of me. Why do I have to be rid of you?"

He stormed away. The slamming of the bathroom door an exclamatory punctuation on his outburst. She stared after him, tears filling her eyes. Did he really believe that? Did he really believe that even in death she could ever be rid of him?

* * *

His day had started and ended oddly. Laura, as always, had been warm, funny, and gorgeous. She'd teased him in a way that was both challenging and somehow comforting. It sparked something in him yet also brought him peace.

Then at the end of his day, his conversation with Marion Hammond. There had also been a spark. An almost palpable connection that had ripped through him like wildfire. It was the first time, in a long time, he'd felt such raw attraction to someone.

He supposed he should be excited he could still feel that particular sensation. Marion had teased him, challenged him, pushed him in ways no one had in a long time. However, there was nothing comforting about it. It had all felt contrived as if she did it for the reaction but took no real enjoyment from it.

"You should be careful of that one."

He looked up at her, his anger from the night before returning although not as forcefully. "Which one?"

"The artist. She's too clever for you."

"Because I'm stupid."

She shook her head, "That's not what I meant and you know it."

"Then what? Do tell since you seem to have all of the answers."

"Do you really think I think you are stupid?"

Rubbing his eye, "What am I supposed to think, Val?"

"You push me at Laura, then tell me I'm not bright enough for Marion Hammond. What else am I supposed to think?"

"That would imply I think Laura is simple. Which couldn't be farther from the truth. I meant, Marion, she's…"

"She's what, Val? Beautiful, exciting, sexy…"

"She's playing with you, Robbie. She's not a woman who wants to be there in the morning. And you are a man who wants, even needs, someone to be there in the morning. But, hey, if she is what you think you need, by all means, go ahead. But don't expect me to be here to pick up the pieces. Maybe you're right, maybe it's best if I'm just rid of you. I mean that's why I died, right. To be rid of you?"

His eyes slid closed, stunned at both her words and her anger. When he opened them again, she was gone. Once again, he was alone. Alone with his thoughts, his anger, his grief.

* * *

Fatigue pulled at him as he opened the door. The coffee with James had been a mistake and would likely keep him awake despite his exhausted state. He tugged on his tie, planning to be almost naked by the time he made it to his bed.

All he wanted to do was brush his teeth and fall into bed. As he rounded the corner to his bedroom, he saw her, seated tensely in the chair in the corner. For a moment, he thought about ignoring her, simply going about his plan and falling into bed. But he knew if he did, he'd never sleep.

"I don't want to be rid of you, Val."

She nodded, "I know. But, you need to move on. I won't be here forever."

"You said you would be here as long as I need you. I still need you."

"That's not strictly true."

"That I don't need you? That I won't always need you?"

Looking away, "That I will stay as long as you need me. I've only got a little while longer."

"I don't understand."

She stood but didn't move toward him, "And I can't explain. But I won't be here forever. Which is why I've pushed so hard. And you're right. You should choose who you want."

He toed off his shoes then kicked them to the side. "Well, if it makes you feel better, you were right about Marion Hammond."

She smiled to herself, "Only a little bit." Watching him as he continued to undress, she broadened her smile, "If it helps, I might have been a bit jealous of her."

He turned to her, startled at her admission, "Jealous?"

"On my best day, I don't know if I was ever that sexy."

"On your worst day you were ten times sexier than her."

"That's sweet, if not strictly true."

He took a step toward her, "Yes, it is true. And do you know why?"

She shook her head, "No, why?"

"Because I always knew you would be there in the morning."

Tears filled her eyes, she wiped them away, lost for what to say next. Robbie's ringing phone saved her from having to come up with something.

"Laura?"

"Hey, I was hoping I could trade your offer of breakfast for a late lunch today."

He smiled, "Normally, Laura, I would jump at the chance. But, I am exhausted. Do you think we could do it tomorrow?"

"Yes, I think I'll still be here tomorrow."


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

Their rescheduled lunch had turned into a regular thing. At least once a week, they had lunch together. James was never invited and, to his knowledge, James wasn't even aware.

He was happy to keep it that way. The fewer prying eyes, the better he thought. Even Val had been conspicuously quiet on the topic. He knew she knew the days he had lunch with Laura because on those days, she made a point of rambling about the kids.

It was endearing the way she pointedly didn't discuss Laura. He felt certain if he brought it up she would be happy to talk about it but since her confession, they'd each avoided the subject. Last night, she'd watched him cook a quick meal then had suggested it was time for him to smarten up his flat.

He'd balked at the idea at the time. But, now, looking around the flat, he had to admit she was right. It was frighteningly utilitarian. More reflective of a curmudgeonly widower than a man who wanted someone alive in his life.

* * *

Her phone started ringing as she inserted the key in the lock. Arms full, she cursed as she tried to balance it all to answer the call.

"Hobson."

"Have I done something to upset you?"

"Who is this?"

"Sorry, Dr. Hobson, it's Alan Peterson."

"I'm sorry, Inspector. How can I help you?"

"Please, call me Alan."

She pushed the door open with her hip, then dropped the things she was carrying on a table by the door. "OK, Alan, how can I help you?"

"I have tickets to a lecture on Sunday. It's a criminology lecture. I thought it might be a good time for us to get to know each other. Seeing as we will be working together."

Pausing, she thought about her calendar. She didn't have plans, had hoped Robbie would ask her to brunch, add one more regular event to their calendars. But it was unlikely at this late date he would ask. Taking a deep breath, she nodded. "That seems like a good idea. If you want to text me the details, I can meet you there."

"I could pick you up, if you like."

"Sure, why not? I'll text you my address."

"Perfect, I can pick you up at two. The lecture starts at three. That will give us time to grab a drink beforehand. Share war stories."

"OK, I'll see you then, Alan."

Ending the call, she texted him her address while it was on her mind. Then she added the event to her calendar. Twenty minutes later, she was changed, dinner was on to cook, and she was relaxing with a glass of wine.

She could hear her phone ringing and had to think about where it was. Remembering the call from Alan Peterson, she found it on the table by her front door. The display showed Robbie's name and a photo of him she'd snapped surreptitiously one day at lunch.

"Robbie, to what do I owe the pleasure of this call? I'm not on call and I don't believe you are either."

"Does there have to be a murder for me to call?"

Smiling at his teasing, "You can call me anytime you like, Robbie."

"I do have a specific reason for calling though."

Taking a sip from her wine glass, "And, what would that be?"

"I need a favor."

"A favor? That's going to cost you."

His laughter rippled through the phone. "Usual rates, lunch before and I will throw in a home-cooked meal afterwards."

"Are you asking me to help you hide a body, Robbie?"

"What?"

"Those are awfully high rates you are offering. Two meals, one of them cooked by you."

"Well, you've never tried my cooking. You might be the body I need to hide."

It was her turn to laugh, "Well that would make you a poor detective if you killed the pathologist who was supposed to be helping you."

"Nah, I'd pick your brains before I killed you."

"So what do I have to do to earn not one but two meals?"

"I want to freshen up my flat. Since it's in the shape it is now because of me. I thought it might be nice to have a feminine touch."

She inhaled deeply, hoping he hadn't heard it. "I'd be happy to help. When?"

"I was thinking on Sunday?"

Cursing to herself, she regretted telling Peterson yes. Briefly thought of cancelling but she did have to work with the man. Best to get getting to know him out of the way.

"I'm sorry, Robbie. I have plans. I could do one day next week or next Sunday."

There was a lengthy pause, then finally. "Of course, I shouldn't have asked so late."

It broke her heart to hear his glum response, "I really do want to help, Robbie. Pick a day next week."

"You don't have to, Laura."

"Robbie, if I didn't want to, I wouldn't. I really do have plans. Funnily enough, I just made them about half an hour ago."

"A day late and a dollar short. Let's talk about it over lunch next week."

"Sounds like a plan. See you tomorrow."

"I look forward to it."

* * *

He knocked on her door precisely at two. She was ready, didn't bother to invite him in. What, at first, had seemed like a good way to get to know a colleague had now become an annoyance. She would much rather be shopping with Robbie than out for a work event with Alan Peterson.

The man was rather like an eager puppy and she had an overwhelming desire to whack him on the nose with a rolled-up newspaper. He talked incessantly on the short drive to the college. Then as they had drinks, he continued the monologue about his life. At no point, had he once asked her a question, expressed any interest in her. This was a decidedly one-way affair.

As they crossed the street, his hand found the small of her back and didn't leave once they were safely across the road. It was the first moment, she wondered if he considered this a date. It had taken everything in her not to burst into laughter. It made the whole thing even more annoying. She was attending a work event with a man who thought this was a great date opportunity and it was keeping her from an afternoon and evening with someone she wanted to spend time with.

* * *

Robbie gazed around the room as Laura broke down the scene for him.

"So what I know is he's a visiting academic by the named Paul Yelland. Post mortem will confirm that, as I suspect, cause of death will be strangulation." Pointing at the deceased, "He was in Oxford at the invitation of the department of criminology to give a public talk." She paused for a moment, "I was there actually."

Robbie turned to look at her, so this man's lecture had been her plans, "How come?"

Laura shook her head, "A friend saw an article in the local paper and thought it might be interesting."

"And was it?"

"No, but the speaker deserves to be strangled, would be, in my opinion, a harsh review." She smiled at Robbie.

He smiled back at her, "Any sense at this talk that he was anxious?"

Laura shook her head, "This wasn't suicide. The door was forced from the outside."

James walked across the room, to examine the door, "If he'd forgotten his key and then forced the door in desperation to get in?"

Laura shook her head, "The key was in his jacket pocket." James nodded to her. "You can do this to yourself." She motioned to her neck, "Apply enough pressure to the carotid bulbs and eventually your heart will stop. But the extent of the bruising around his neck suggests he struggled hard to stay alive." She reached for his hands. "And look at this."

Robbie leaned forward, "Ahh right, he managed to get his fingers behind the ligament. But then the killer was too strong."

James watched the two of them oddly, wondered about the state of their relationship briefly. "What was this talk about?"

Laura looked up at him, "A potentially new approach to criminal dangerousness."

Robbie looked at the dead man, "Well right now he must be the worlds' leading expert."

A small smile, played across her lips at his joke, "PM at four. I'll see you there."

"Wouldn't miss it, Dr. Hobson."

* * *

Robbie and James stood at the door of Innocent's office. Peering into the office, Robbie groaned before turning to James. "Oh look, its action man." They entered her office and Robbie acknowledged action man. "Peterson."

Peterson smiled, "Boys."

"Ma'am." Robbie said as he and James sat.

Jean took a deep breath. "DI Peterson and his unit have been tracking local extremists so he may have valuable information for the investigation."

Peterson shifted in his seat and looked at the boys. "We've been monitoring her anti-racist group that interrupted Yelland's talk. Myra Barnet, thick head, old school, hard core…"

James interrupted with a smirk. "Any other clichés…" Jean gaped at him.

Peterson continued. "We thought they were pretty harmless until now but we still don't have anything concrete to pin on them."

Jean cut her eyes at James. "Needless to say, the Vice Chancellor was on the phone within minutes. A guest of the university murdered on university premises after giving a talk whereby all accounts university staff and a student tore him apart. The PR consequences are obviously horrendous."

James crossed his legs. "I phoned the paper, they're running the headline. ' _Lynched!'"_ Jean rolled her eyes.

Peterson interjected. "Well from what I saw he wouldn't have required much lynching."

Robbie and James both looked at him. "What you were at his talk?"

"Yeah, with Dr. Hobson." Peterson added. "I was just keeping an eye on things."

Jean added. "The university wants this wrapped up quickly and so do I. The director of the department of criminology called me personally to request some protection for Professor Yelland during his stay and I turned it down as I thought it was unnecessary."

Peterson interjected. "On advice from us. You see our intelligence said that no one had the slightest interest in targeting Yelland."

Robbie looked at James, "Couldn't have gotten that more wrong." Jean glared at him.

Ignoring the edge in Robbie's voice, Peterson continued, "That's why we think the motive was personal rather than professional."

James was smirking at Peterson, Robbie was looking anywhere but Peterson and Peterson was looking rather pleased with himself. Jean felt the need to bring this to a close. "Liaise with one another and find out who did this quickly."

All three men answered. "Yes ma'am." They remained seated in their chairs.

Jean looked at them. "Why are you sitting there looking at me likes dogs being shown a card trick?"

All three men stood. Robbie and Peterson turned into one another. The older man pushed forward and walked out first closely followed by James.

* * *

Robbie stared down at the body of Paul Yelland, "Strangled by his own tie?"

Laura smiled over at him. "An advert for dress down Friday if ever there was one. I can confirm cause of death was asphyxiation due to strangulation. He was two and a half times over the limit when he died with the sleeping drug Zolpidem in his system. Toxicology puts ingestion around the time he was giving his talk or just after."

Robbie nodded, "Enough to make him more compliant to kill."

Laura nodded, "Any amount would have that effect. This particular brand activates relatively slowly. But it would have synergized with the alcohol to speed up the conking out process."

He looked at her with a half-smile, "The conking out process being?"

She smirked at him flirtatiously, "An internationally recognized medical term." He smiled at her and nodded. She turned to the lab assistant. "Anne-Marie," she said as she pointed at the chart. She took the chart from Anne-Marie and handed it to Robbie.

"Is that it?"

She raised her eyebrows. "I've pushed your boat out into open water Robbie. Get rowing."

He rubbed at his jaw as he walked away. "You wouldn't have anything for a bad tooth in here would you?"

"I can take it out for you if you like." He raised his eyebrows debating the sincerity of her statement. Laura smiled at him, "Of course, you'd have to be dead first." They smirked at one another then Robbie turned to leave. Laura called after him, "You should have that took looked at."

Waving over his shoulder, "Just as soon as I'm dead, you can take a look at it."

* * *

Robbie entered the lab where Laura was working. Her soft smile didn't put him at ease. He knew he would pay for messing things up with her dentist. It was akin to waiting for the other shoe to drop.

She pulled up the results she wanted him to see when the door opened. It was Alan Peterson, the last person he wanted to see. The younger man eyed him awkwardly before turning his attention to Laura.

He handed her the file he was carrying, "Thanks Laura."

She smiled tightly at him as she took the file, "No problem."

"Speak later." She nodded at him, an odd expression on her face.

Robbie stared at her not understanding her reaction to Peterson. "He came to discuss some forensic results." Robbie nodded skeptically. "And to invite me to dinner."

Robbie took a deep breath trying to process her words as he stared at the screen behind her. "Ah, right. When?"

She tilted her head, "Never. Not my type."

Robbie stared at her feeling slightly foolish as she smiled at him. He pointed at the screen trying to bring the attention back to the case. She hadn't been on a date. He listened to her talk, only taking in half of what she said.

As he made to leave, he turned back to her, "Sorry about your dentist."

She smiled at him, shrugging, "Forgiven."

He was just about to close the door when he heard her call his name. "Robbie, it wasn't a date. At least not on my part. I would have much preferred an afternoon spent with you."

* * *

Robbie and James stood by their cars watching the two suspects being placed into cars and driven away. The evidence Laura had shown him had proven to be what they needed to solve the case. He chuckled to himself and the inhale caused him to moan in pain. "Ow, damn it."

James watched him rub at the sore tooth. "You know Lipton reminds me of you." Robbie looked at him quizzically and James continued, "Stubborn, stuck in the past."

"Come again?"

"He allowed his life to be marred by an experience forty years ago. And you are allowing yours to be marred by a dental appointment in 1992."

Robbie rubbed his cheek, willing the pain away, "Hardly comparable."

James took a card from his pocket, "Well, I've booked you an appointment with my dentist. Tomorrow morning, she's opening up early especially. I'll pick you up at eight."

"I'll be going for a jog at eight."

James turned back and pointed at him, "You don't jog."

"I just started. You fancy a pint later? Big match, stupid sized telly in a sweaty pub."

James shook his head, "I've got a book to finish."

"Have you learned nothing from this case? Books are bad for your health."

James shook his head, "Not if you just read them. Why don't you invite Dr. Hobson? Get in there quickly before someone whisks her away."

Robbie took a deep breath, "You said it yourself. Stuck in the past, me." James smiled at him before getting in his car and leaving.

Making sure James was out of sight, he pulled out his phone. He pressed the single button that connected him to her. She answered on the first ring. "Dr. Hobson, how do you fancy a pint later? I'll even throw in a stupid sized telly in a sweaty pub."


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

She'd agreed to meet him. Even with only the offer of a sweaty pub, she'd said yes. Of course, she'd said yes to Peterson, too, so maybe it didn't really mean anything. Shaking his head, he finished buttoning up his shirt.

"You shouldn't overthink it."

He met her eye in the mirror. "I'm not overthinking. I'm simply wondering."

"Wondering what?"

"Why she said yes?"

Val rolled her eyes, "Because she likes you."

"Does that mean she likes Peterson, too? She said yes to him, too."

"I don't know why she said yes to Peterson. But I know how you can find out. "At his quizzical look, "Ask her. Tonight, in the sweaty pub."

He shook his head, rubbing at his eye. "I don't know, maybe. I'll see how it goes."

"Find a moment, promise me."

"I'll try, Val. That's all I can promise."

* * *

She was early, couldn't help it. Under normal circumstances, she was ridiculously punctual. When she was anxious, she was more so. His call had surprised her. She knew he was in pain, suspected he would just go home and hide away.

There was a pint waiting for him. She was forcing herself not to stare at the door. Her eyes fixed deliberately on the stupid sized telly.

"Have you been waiting long?"

Fighting a smile, "Only a few minutes." She pushed the glass toward him. "Just long enough to get you a pint."

He moved the chair to be closer to her, "You know what I like."

The smile she was fighting bloomed, "Yes, I do. I thought about ordering some chips." She pointed at his chin, "But wasn't sure if you could manage."

He took a sip of his beer and smiled, "I think I can manage."

They settled in, watching the match on the stupid sized telly. Chips were eaten, good-natured teasing when Robbie's team lost. As the crowd thinned, Robbie took a deep breath.

"I'm glad you said yes."

She smiled at him over her glass, "I'm glad you asked. Why did you ask?"

Robbie thought about his conversation with James. "Can't I just want to spend an evening with a good friend?"

"Yes, you can."

"And in that spirit, can I ask you another question?"

"Sure, always."

He paused, then dove in. "Why did you go out with Peterson?"

She laughed, choking on her sip of beer. "I'm not sure I'd say I went out with him. He invited me to a lecture under the auspices of getting to know each other." She shrugged, "Honestly I thought it was a work thing. Not what I would call a date."

"What would you call a date?"

"Something more like this. Two people who like each other, hanging out, enjoying each other's company."

"So…you didn't enjoy your outing?"

"Not at all, he talked about himself the entire time, then abandoned me when the protesters came in. For someone who claimed to want to get to know me, he didn't learn one thing about me."

Robbie paused, thinking of all of their outings. All of the times he'd blathered on about his problems and she'd listened. Did that put him in the Alan Peterson category?

"Robbie…" Her hand covered his, "Where did you go?"

He looked down at her hand covering his, "Lost in my thoughts."

"Penny for them."

Val's words echoed in his mind. Meeting her even gaze, he asked, "I hope I don't fall into the Peterson category?"

"What?"

"Always talking about myself, never asking about you."

"How many siblings do I have?"

He shook his head, "A brother, Patrick. He's in Dubai on a job assignment."

"Who's my best friend?"

"Ellen, although I'll never understand that friendship."

"What was my favorite thing when I was a child?"

"Gymnastics but you realized you would never be as good as you wanted to be so you gave it up."

"What's my favorite thing to eat?"

He rolled his eyes, "Nicked chips but a nice curry will do. And once a week, you indulge in a special dessert."

Smiling at him, "Still think you don't know me."

Robbie laughed, looking down, noticing her hand was still covering his. "I guess I do know a lot."

She squeezed his hand, "Way more than think you do. And you didn't have to try."

"Thanks, I think…"

"Robbie, you've learned about me naturally, as our relationship evolved. I'd much rather that than some forced situation where we pepper each other with meaningless questions we have no chance of remembering the answers to." She tilted her head and smiled at him, "Don't you agree?"

He blushed, "I…" Turning his hand and squeezing hers. "Yes, I agree."


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

"I think your CD must be scratched."

James inhaled deeply, unsurprised by his DI's disapproval of his music choice. "Don't you find the repetition meditative?"

"If meditative is another word for monotonous, yes, very."

"Highly effective in combatting stress."

Robbie looked over at his partner, "Yeah, but I'm not stressed."

"You don't think you're stressed." James turned the car while smirking at Robbie, "You've assimilated it."

Robbie saw the woman stepping into the road, "God, man, watch out!"

James slammed on the brakes, stopping in time to avoid the woman. Tires screeched and their car was hit. Another driver wasn't fortunate enough to have Robbie alerting her to danger. James turned to look at the other car, "Come on."

They both stepped out of the vehicle. An attractive blonde woman stepped out of the other vehicle. "I'm so sorry. I wasn't paying close attention." James removed his warrant card flashing it at her. "Oh, bollocks."

Robbie laughed, "I'll leave this in your hands. I've a call I need to make."

When James waved back at him, he pulled his phone from his pocket and stepped away. A single button connected the call, he smiled when she answered, "Hello, you."

"You might not be that happy when you hear I am going to be late."

"I guess that depends on how late and the reason."

"Fifteen to twenty minutes and I was in an accident."

"Robbie, are you OK?"

He nodded nonchalantly, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little fender bender. James is talking with the other driver. Once they trade information we'll be on our way."

"Anything I can do?"

"Just tell me you'll still be available despite my lateness?"

"I think I can arrange that. Text me when you're free."

He saw James wrapping things up, "I will. See you soon." He leaned against the car, watching James as he walked back to him. "Not the best way to get a copper's number."

James looked back at the woman, "It wasn't her fault. It was the woman who crossed the road, she just…"

Robbie nodded at him, "You're sounding a bit tense, James. Did you remember to grab your CD from the car?"

Watching his DI walk away, James scoffed, "Brilliant."

"Well, while you figure all of this out, I'm gonna get a lift from one of the uniforms back to the station."

"You're just going to leave me here."

Robbie looked back over his shoulder, "Yes, I've got things to do. Plus someone has to go back and get another car."

"And what am I supposed to do?"

Robbie waved his hand at the other uniforms, "One of them will give you a lift. Or if you like, I can run back and pick you up later."

"Really, I could be injured and you're just going to leave?"

Robbie stopped, sighing to himself. Finally, he turned back to James, "Fine, I'll stay but coffee is on you."

James nodded, "Five minutes. There's a good shop around the corner."

Holding up his phone, "I'll head that way. Have to make another call." He headed away from James in the direction the younger man had pointed. Once he was sure he was out of earshot, he pressed redial, smiling when she answered on the first ring. "You're going to hate me."

"Not possible."

"You might want to reserve judgement. I have to cancel."

"You're right, I hate you."

"In fairness, you should hate James."

"Why James? He's not the one cancelling lunch with me?"

Robbie laughed, "No, but he's the cause."

"Well, in light of this new evidence, I hate James."

"Raincheck?"

"Always." She paused, "Is he OK?"

He shrugged, "Just a bit needy. Pride wounded."

"Pride?"

"His perfect driving record is sullied and he didn't even get a second look from the girl."

"Robbie…"

"Bye, love. Call you later."

"Was that Lyn?"

Robbie jumped, surprised James had managed to sneak up on him. "Yes. Aren't you supposed to be getting me a coffee?"

James pointed at the shop, "I am. Your usual?"

Robbie nodded. He picked up a paper from a table in front of the shop. "By the looks of that line, I'm going to need some entertainment."

James entered the shop, leaving Robbie to his own devices. His mind wandered to his conversations with Laura. It was nice, the flirting, teasing, simply having someone to call. And the calls happened with more frequency of late.

It wasn't just him calling her. She called him. Always some offbeat question, giving him the tying vote on something she was going to do. Nothing of consequence but somehow it made him feel more a part of her life. And, he found he did the same.

When he saw James coming out of the shop, he had to force away the smile he found he had any time he thought about Laura. "Neck ok, is it, after your shunt?"

James took a sip of his coffee, "Mm-hmm."

"Give it time."

"What were your plans?"

Robbie looked over at him, "What plans?"

"The plans that had you running off, abandoning me."

"I wasn't abandoning you."

"So what was so important?"

Robbie shook his head, "No plans, I had some errands to run. Wanted to get them done on me lunch so I could watch the match tonight."

James' phone rang. Pulling it from his pocket, he showed the screen to Robbie. "Well, now you can't blame everything on me. You'd have been cut short regardless."

Shaking his head, "It's a sad man who uses murder to keep from being blamed for ruining my plans."

"You said you didn't have plans, sir."

* * *

She was already there when he arrived. He'd wanted to see her, but not like this. Almost as if she sensed him, she glanced up and in her typical fashion started talking as though they were in mid-conversation.

"Well, he hasn't been shot, strangled, stabbed, beaten, bludgeoned, or had his neck broken."

He wanted to laugh at her gallows humor but instead chose to continue her banter. "If we're listing all the things that haven't happened to him, why don't we include that he hasn't been struck by lightning or savaged by wolves?"

Unfortunately for him, she didn't appreciate the banter. "Robbie, do I stand in your office asking, 'Have you caught them yet?'"

Seeing the body for the first time, he understood her tone. "What is it about those eyes?" Sensing James behind him, he turned to catch James rubbing at his neck. "Strong painkillers, warm bath."

Laura smiled at James, "That's Robbie sorted. How about you?" She smiled brightly at both of them before turning back to the body.

James brought Robbie up to speed on the deceased. After he finished, Robbie nodded at James, "I'll be just a minute."

He approached Laura, "I didn't mean to upset you."

She shook her head. "Not you." Motioning at the body, "You nailed it with the look in his eyes. All a bit disturbing."

"Ever seen anything like this?"

"No, but I'll figure it out."

Looking around to make sure no one was looking, he stroked her arm. "Call me when you do?"

"Only then?"

Or whenever you like?"

* * *

He could hear the phone ringing as he inserted the key into the lock. He tried to hurry and only managed to drop what he was carrying. He cursed as the door fell open.

"You shouldn't use such language."

He smiled, "That was my dinner and it was from the good curry place."

The phone continued to ring. "You should get that."

He walked past her grabbing the phone, growling a greeting as he did.

"Am I catching you at a bad time?"

"The only bad thing is I dropped my dinner trying to get to the phone."

"Did the takeaway container at least hold up?"

"No, curry and noodles, everywhere."

"Was it from the good place?"

"Yep."

"Damn."

He laughed, smiling at her use of the same word he'd used. "You shouldn't use such language."

"I think spoiling a good curry warrants such use but I'll throw myself on the mercy of the court."

"No need, I said the exact same thing when I did it."

"Seeing as I am the cause of the accident, it's only fair I compensate you."

He smiled, "What do you have in mind?"

"I'm still at the office. I could grab two takeaways from the good place and come by. We could eat together."

"I don't have any wine but I do have a couple of beers."

"Is that a yes, Inspector Lewis?"

"That is a yes, Dr. Hobson."

"I'll be there in twenty minutes. That should give you more than enough time to tidy up."

He went to argue only to realize she was already gone. Smiling at the phone, he replaced it on the receiver then set about cleaning up the mess at his doorway.

Once it was cleared away, he changed clothes then set about tidying his flat. Again, he realized it was in need of sprucing. Perhaps tonight he would ask her to go with him to pick out a few things.

* * *

True to her word, twenty minutes later she knocked on his door. He opened the door to find her dancing. She pushed the bag toward. "I'm really sorry but I need to go to the toilet."

He stepped back, "Be my guest."

She all but ran to the bathroom, not even stopping to say hello. He watched her go before heading to the kitchen. By the time she returned, he had food dished out and drinks poured.

Smiling as she returned, "First, thank you. I should have gone before I left the office but didn't want to be late. Second, you desperately need new towels."

Motioning for her to have a seat, he smiled. "First, you're welcome. I suppose I should take it as a good thing that you feel that comfortable with me. Second, I was going to ask you again tonight about going shopping with me."

Suddenly embarrassed, a slow blush crept up her cheeks. "Yes, you should take it that way. And I would be happy to go with you."

A slightly awkward moment passed between them. By silent agreement, they both started to eat. After a few bites, Laura started to laugh.

"What's so funny?"

"Just thinking about James and his brace. Do you suppose he's taking your advice and having a warm bath and a strong painkiller?"

Robbie laughed, "More like a whisky, a cigarette, and a moan."

"I didn't want to tease him in the morgue today."

"You should have. He needs someone besides me giving him a hard time."

"You don't think he's really hurt."

Taking a sip of his beer, "I'm sure he's a bit sore. The rest is probably for a bit of tea and sympathy."

"Do you think he's alright?"

"He's fine."

She shook her head, "I don't mean physically, emotionally. He's seemed a bit more dour than usual of late."

Robbie rubbed at his eye, "He has ups and downs, always has. Takes the job more personally than I do."

Reaching over, she touched his cheek. "I don't know, I've known you to take it personally a couple of times."

He covered her hand with his, "Maybe once or twice. But, I've always had people to pull me back. Not sure he does."

"He has you. For that matter, he has me. Do you think he might talk to me?"

Squeezing her hand, "Not yet."

"You know, that offer is open to you, too."

Without thinking, he pulled her hand slightly away from his face. He turned his head and kissed the palm of her hand. "Yes, I do."

* * *

The rest of the evening went quickly. They talked, cleaned the kitchen together, even watched a little telly. As the detective show they were watching ended, Laura looked over at Robbie to find him asleep.

She watched him for a moment. It was the most relaxed she'd ever seen him. She turned off the television and he startled awake. "Sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"I'm going to take it as a good thing that you are comfortable with me."

He laughed, "Yes, you should take it that way."

"Or I could take it as a sign that I am that boring a companion."

He reached for her hand, "No. Don't ever think that."

Turning her hand, she laced their fingers together and leaned into him. "I was teasing, Robbie."

He smiled at her. His other hand coming up to stroke her cheek. "I like when you tease me."

Her eyes widened, she leaned into his touch. "I'll be sure to do that more often."

They each leaned closer, lips almost touching. The startling ringing of a phone pulled them apart.

Laura, leaned back, running her hand through her hair. "I should get home. I'm keeping you…"

Robbie cursed under his breath. "I should get the phone."

They both stood, Robbie grabbed the phone, "Hello."

"Hi, dad. Is this a good time?"

He watched Laura gather her things. "Yeah, Lyn. Give me just a minute." He covered the phone, "Laura…" When she turned to him, he smiled, "Thanks."

"For what."

"Everything."

She nodded, suddenly very shy, "I'll see you tomorrow."

When she closed the door, he returned to the phone. "Sorry, Lyn. How are you?"

As he dropped onto the sofa, chatting happily with his daughter, Val watched quietly from the corner. A smile lit her face as a single tear slid down her cheek.


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

Laura saw him enter the morgue, the minute he arrived. She'd heard what happened from the medical examiner who attended the scene. To help, she'd pushed this autopsy to the front of the queue.

Motioning to Robbie, she went straight to the body, pulling back the sheet covering the young woman. "If you look in the center of the bruising, you'll see a tiny hole which may seem familiar."

She looked back at him as he nodded resignedly, "The same as the one on Reuben Beatty's arm." Laura nodded, Robbie sighed. "Someone just banged into her. Next thing she's on the ground. This figure in a hoodie ran off, got away."

Laura turned back to him, trying to keep him thinking. "Man or woman?"

Rubbing at his eye, "No idea. Quick on their feet, I'll give them that."

"Injected. Same drug, etorphine." A door opening made them both turn. James, looking worse for the wear, was watching them. "I heard you were with her when she died. That's rough, I'm sorry."

James nodded, "Yeah. Etorphine. We've had a result from our enquiries. Garsington Equine Center reported a theft."

James walked away without another word. Robbie followed, before he was gone Laura called to him. "Robbie, he needs to talk with someone."

He turned back to her, nodding, "Yeah, but how do I tell him that."

* * *

He was in queue at the shop for their sandwiches. Looking over his shoulder, he could see James on the bench, smoking looking more morose than normal. A near death experience was always harrowing but with someone like James, even more so.

Under the best of circumstances, James didn't look on the bright side. Always seemed to see the darker side of life, people. Robbie suspected it was why he never seemed to have someone in his life. Laura was right, he needed to talk to someone. Meanwhile, perhaps he could make him find a spot of light in the dark.

Robbie smiled at the young woman as she handed him the wrapped sandwiches. Walking across the courtyard, he searched his mind for some way to start the conversation. Dropping the sandwich into James' lap, he sat, closer to him than he normally would but he wanted James slightly off center from the proximity, hoped it would make him focus on that rather than what he needed to say.

"Great about your neck, eh?"

James played with the sandwich with his free hand, "Yeah, who'd have thought rugby tackling a syringe wielding murderer would be such good physio?"

Robbie snickered, "An inch and a half of foam away from certain death." He took a bite of his sandwich before continuing. "Just think, if you hadn't made it, I might have had to go and see a psychic."

"Would have been a very one-sided conversation."

Robbie grunted, "You say that now. You'd miss me if you were gone." Finally, James laughed and cracked a small smile as he took drag off his cigarette. Robbie watched him from the corner of his eye. Taking another bite, he continued. "So you think Justine was the real thing?" Waving his hand holding the sandwich, "She knew Reuben had been killed before we told her."

James' dour look returned, "Strange she didn't tell us something we didn't already know."

"Strange how the higher powers are so ambivalent, eh?" He looked over at James, knew it was a lost cause for now. Moving to stand, "Come on, let's get back."

Without moving, eyes fixed on the ground, James uttered words that could have many meanings. "I don't think I want to."

Robbie turned quickly, gauged the younger man's body language then returned to the bench. This time he sat a bit further away, turning slightly to James. "I used to feel like that."

"What happened?"

Shrugging, "The next case."

James finally looked at him, made eye contact. "Can we just sit here for a minute?"

For the first time, Robbie realized the lad was in real pain. He didn't know how to fix it but he could give him this. "Of course we can."

They sat in silence. Robbie finished his sandwich, waiting patiently. He let James come to him. Finally, his restraint paid off.

"The cases are getting harder to shake off. The next case builds on the prior case and on and on. I don't know how to push it away. How do you do it? How do you see the worst humanity has to offer and keep coming back for more?"

Robbie paused, giving thought to James' words. "I think after Val died, I stopped looking at it that way. I started looking at it as giving a voice to those who didn't have one. Making sure the worst of humanity couldn't harm anyone else."

"And that works for you?"

"I'm still here, all these years later. And when that fails, good whisky and better friends."

"Dr. Hobson?"

Robbie fought the smile, but James still saw it, "Among others."

"I've said it before, you're good together."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah."

"You and I are good together. I'm the light-hearted easygoing one, obviously. You're the brooding moody one. It balances out."

James laughed, "Yeah."

Leaning forward, arms on his legs, "Tell you what. I'll cover for you at the station. Why don't you go find some good whisky and some good friends?"

"Are you sure?"

"I assume you have some good friends. Perhaps a Dr. Hobson of your own?"

James smiled, nodding, "One or two."

Robbie smiled back at him, "See you tomorrow?"

James stood, hands in his pocket, looking down at his feet. "Yeah, you will."

* * *

The phone was ringing as he entered his flat. There was no takeaway to drop this time. He let the phone ring, let the machine pick up the call. Pulling on his tie, he smiled when he saw Val sitting on the sofa.

"You did good."

He shrugged, "No, I just gave him a different perspective."

"Is what you told him true or what you thought he needed to hear?"

Rubbing at his eye, "Does it matter?"

"To me, it does."

Crossing the room, he sat next to her. Wishing, not for the first time, that he could touch her. "Every word. Losing you, it almost broke me. But it changed how I do the job. I think it made me more compassionate."

"I love you, Robbie. Always will."

"Are you saying goodbye?"

She smiled, sadly, "Not quite yet, but soon."

"For the first time, I feel like I am ready."

"It's time, Robbie. Time to start a new chapter." At his look, she smiled brilliantly, "Go on, call her back, turn the page.


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

He watched Laura from across the table, knew from her expression the call she was on was bad news. She smiled at him, grimacing lightly as she reached into her bag to grab a pen and paper.

He felt his own phone buzzing in his pocket. Pulling it out, he expected it to be James giving him the same news Laura was apparently getting. Instead it was a number he didn't recognize. "Hello."

"Robbie, Robbie Lewis?"

"Yes."

"It's Louise Cornish. Jack's wife."

"Oh, yeah. How are you?"

She paused for a moment, "I was wondering if you could drop by the house. I have something to talk with you about."

"Sure, will Jack be there?"

"No, he's not here right now."

Robbie looked at his watch, "Give me about an hour."

"Thanks, Robbie."

He ended the call, placed his phone on the table. Laura was still on the phone. He fell back into watching her. Her face was a mask of concentration but no less beautiful for it. He smiled to himself, these thoughts seemed to come to him more frequently of late.

She'd always been beautiful but now it took his breath away with increasing frequency. Lost in his thoughts, he didn't hear her end the call.

"Earth to Robbie."

He shook his head, "What?"

"Where did you go?"

"Sorry, didn't sleep well. Guess I zoned out for a few minutes. Were you telling me something?"

She frowned, "I was saying I have to go. I'm really sorry."

"Make it up to me tonight? Drinks, dinner?"

Her frown became a grimace, "Sorry, I have plans. Raincheck?"

"Of course, I guess it's not my day."

Standing, she reached across the table and rubbed his arm. "Look at it this way, you can have an early night, catch up on some sleep."

"I'd rather be sleep-deprived and have time with you."

A shadow of something flitted across Laura's face. "That's sweet. I could do something tomorrow."

He nodded, "Sounds good."

* * *

There was only one car in the drive when he arrived. He'd hoped Jack would be home. It would be nice to see him.

Locking up his car, he made his way to the door, loosening his tie slightly on the walk. He rang the bell, waited.

The door open, Louise smiled up at him. "Robbie, come in."

* * *

He'd left her house in a daze, driven to where he often met Laura, parked then gone for a walk. Eventually, he'd called Jack, not sure if he wanted him to answer or not. What could he say to him? He'd not really been able to say anything to Louise beyond he would try to talk to Jack.

Tucking his phone back into his pocket, he started walking. People passed him, bright, happy. They all had somewhere to be. He wished he had somewhere to be, someone to be with. Laura crossed his mind, he thought about calling her then remembered she had plans. A takeaway it would have to be.

* * *

Laura sat at the bench, nursing a drink. This was a mistake. She wasn't sure why she'd told David yes. There was something brewing with Robbie. If it was any other man, she would think they were dating. But with Robbie, she kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for the two steps forward two steps back dance they'd been doing.

She smiled to herself, dating Robbie, a completely appealing idea. Glancing down the length of the path, she was surprised to see Robbie. For a moment, she considered calling out to him. Then she saw David. A pang of guilt stabbed through her. It stifled the desire to call out to him. But it also made her regret saying yes to David even more.

* * *

Robbie made it home, no phone ringing as he came through the door. He was slightly disappointed to find Val not there. Since she'd advised him to start a new chapter she was there less and less. He supposed it was prepping him for when she was gone.

He dropped his things on the table then went to change. When he returned to the kitchen, she was sitting at the table. "All you have to do is call me."

Moving easily around the kitchen, he gathered what he needed to eat. "I guess I'm afraid of the day you won't come when called."

She paused, "I figured you would be with Laura tonight."

"She had plans." He started eating, "I did talk with an old friend tonight." At her raised eyebrow, he continued, "Louise Cornish."

"Jack Cornish's wife. Why did you talk with her?"

"She called me, asked me to drop by. Apparently, Jack's left. She suspects he's having an affair." Val's silence shocked him. "You don't seem surprised by that."

"I guess I'm not really. I never really liked Jack nor Louise for that matter."

"We were great friends with them Val."

She shook her head, "No, Robbie. You were great friends with Jack, although I never understood it. Louise and I were forced together and endured for you two. I never much liked her and I am certain the feeling was mutual."

"Val, they were great friends to us."

"Really, where were they after I died? Did they show up? Check how you were doing?"

He pushed his plate away, "No, but a lot of people didn't. People don't know what to do, how to handle the grief."

"Real friends do. Laura did. Laura even stayed in touch even when you went away."

Picking up his plate, he stood, walked away from her "That's different."

"How's it different, Robbie?"

"She's a woman. You all know how to deal with emotion."

"No, Robbie, she was a genuine friend. They aren't. Stay away from her, Robbie. Stay away from Jack, too."

"I can't, Val. I at least have to make an effort. Maybe I can make a difference."

"Why don't you make a difference with Laura?"

He turned to her, "What?"

"Ask her on a real date? You know, one where you get dressed up, go somewhere nice. Two grown-ups on a real, live date."

"We go out together all the time."

"As friends. It's time to call it a date. You know you want it and you know she does."

He paused, his thoughts from earlier in the evening returning. She was the only person he'd thought of when he'd thought of someone to be with. Moving forward with her would mean leaving Val, the life he had with her, behind.

"I know you're scared, Robbie. But you also know it's the right thing to do." Smiling sadly, he nodded to her. "I'll give you some space."

"Val, I love you."

She smiled brilliantly, "I know, love. Doesn't mean there isn't room for someone else."


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

Staring at the ceiling of his bedroom, Robbie couldn't quite seem to get moving. He'd slept fitfully. Val's words on a constant loop throughout the night. Could he really just ask Laura on a date? She was right, he did want to. But would Laura really want it to?

His phone rang. Rolling over, he glanced at the caller ID, the station. Grunting, he sat up, already on the move. "Lewis."

Automatically, he reached for the pad and pen he kept on his nightstand. Without uttering another word, he wrote down the details. Twenty minutes later, he was headed out the door.

* * *

Robbie walked around the crime scene pleased to find Laura attending the body. She was crouched over the man's dead body. Smiling, she looked up at him, "Morning Robbie."

He nodded at her, hoping his pleasure at seeing her wasn't misinterpreted. "Laura, what've we got?"

She stood, placing the lid on the specimen cup. "A gentleman of mature years been dead for some time but a bit of a puzzle. No maggots, no visible pooling, tongue's not distended, the nails…"

Robbie refrained from rolling his eyes at her delight. He waved off further description. "Spare us…"

Her smirk made his heart beat a fraction faster. He knew she took delight in breaking his composure. with the more vivid aspects of her job. "Best suit, polished shoes, clean white hanky in his top pocket…" Robbie knew she was holding back something. He met her gaze, looking only briefly at her lips curled into an almost smile. "No underpants."

His eyebrows raised. "No keks?"

She tilted her head at him, teasing him with his own accent. "Aye, you can take the lad out of Newcastle…" When he didn't respond to her teasing, she took a tentative step toward him, "You're not your usual focused self Robbie." He offered her his hand to help her out of the ditch. She happily took it, "Where's Hathaway?"

He pulled her up to him. "On his holiday." Pausing for a moment, her question made him think of another missing person, "Did you ever meet Jack Cornish? Fast track detective destined for great things."

Laura nodded, "Yeah, I've met him why?"

He scratched his head lightly. "Well it's just we were always great mates, cut from the same cloth and…" He looked down at her, Val's comments about the Cornishes flashing through his mind. He didn't need to bring more of his past into their relationship. Shaking his head, returned to the task at hand. "Oh, ignore me." He motioned towards the body. "Is that it?"

She shook her head as she looked down at the body. "Afraid not, I've saved the best for last, if I were to say all of the usual offices have been performed?" Robbie shook his head not understanding. "The thing is Robbie; this man has already been put through the tender hands of an undertaker."

She turned away, leaving him to puzzle at her words. Despite the gruesome scene and her insight into the body, his thoughts returned to Val's push from the night before. He walked away from her before he blurted out the question he so desperately wanted to ask.

* * *

He'd wandered the crime scene, acutely aware of where she was at all times. Her voice sent a thrill through him every time it cut through the air. A few times, he would have sworn he could smell her perfume, even though she never wore any to a crime scene.

Finally, he started digging through a pile of rubbish hoping to get his mind back onto the case and away from how he was going to ask her out.

"Interesting?"

He held up a sandwich container by the end of a pen. "Best before the 15th, that was when, last week?"

"You're a single bloke, zap it in the microwave, it'll be fine." She closed the hatch of her car and walked away.

He smiled as he watched her walk away. The smile deepened, Val was right. It was time he asked her out. Time for a proper date.

 **My apologies for the long delay. I had a significant health scare over the holidays. Trying to regain my equilibrium over the past 6 weeks has been my priority. Things are better now so I hope to have this finished by the end of next week. Then I will turn my attention to my other story. After that, I am going to return on the other thing I have been writing. It's not fanfiction but it is fictional. Perhaps one day I might even publish it.**


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

He sat at is desk wondering if he should have just bucked up and asked her at the crime scene. He barely contained the laughter at the thought. Wasn't that romantic, asking her out on their first date at a crime scene?

Before he could talk himself out of it, he grabbed his phone and typed a rushed message. " _Buy you lunch?"_

Pacing at the office, he waited. After what felt like an endless period of but was really only a few minutes, his phone buzzed. _"When and where?_ "

His heart leapt as he practically pounced on the phone. He tapped out a quick reply as he grabbed his jacket. " _Fifteen minutes, usual place?"_

He was already in the car and pulling out of the carpark when her reply came, " _On my way."_

* * *

The menus lay on the table in front of him. He'd arrived in record time, amazing what breaking a few speed records could accomplish.

Her hand on his shoulder, made him jump. "Were you already here when you texted me?"

He shook his head, smiling as she sat across from him. "No, I was close though. Wanted to make sure we got a good table." Motioning around, "How'd I do?"

"You did well. Have you ordered?"

"No, I waited for you." He handed her one of the menus then pretended to look at his."

He watched her over his menu as she perused the offerings. "Why are you staring at me?"

"I'm not staring. Just trying to catch the server's attention."

"Hmmm." It was her turn to watch him. He'd been jumpy at the crime scene earlier. "Are you this out of sorts because James is away? Where is he, by the way?" He nodded toward the server. They each placed their order. "Are you going to answer my question?"

"Which one?"

She rolled her eyes, "Both, either."

"I'm not out of sorts. Just thinking about this case. Not making any progress on identifying the body." He rubbed at his eye, "It's just frustrating."

"And Hathaway."

He grunted, "On holiday. Came in on Monday and announced he was taking time."

"Good for him. A little time away is good for everyone."

"Well it's not a very good time. And now Innocent's gone and saddled with some DC."

She took a sip of her tea trying to hide a smile, "Don't be grumpy, Hathaway's having a holiday."

Robbie grimaced. "He says he is."

Laura raised an eyebrow. "Oh, it's like that is it?" He nodded and smiled as he took a sip. "Come on."

"He thinks I don't know about it. Some old churchy pals of his have roped him in for some do goodery."

Laura had to fight back the smile at Robbie's consternation. "Oh no."

"Fixing up an orphanage. They more or less press ganged him into it."

This time Laura couldn't fight the smile. "Poor James."

"Ahh, get out, he'll fit straight back in with all of them. He wouldn't know fun if it jumped up and smacked him in the gob."

Laura smiled thinking James probably knew more about it than Robbie gave him credit for. "But you would?"

He rubbed his hands together, she had given him the perfect opening. "Oh, I've had me share." He looked at her and smiled.

"In the distant past…" He laughed at her teasing. "Although you did give yourself up to wild abandon the other night." He looked at her confused. "Friday." How had she seen him? "Drinking in the beauty of the river, standing in the dusk and just gazing at the sights."

"Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, I, uh, well, I thought I saw a body." She looked at him. "Well it wasn't. It was a log." She laughed at him. "What?"

His mobile rang and he pulled it from his pocket as her laughter deepened. "Yeah, Lewis." He listened for a few seconds. "Neal Strickley, good, thanks." He ended the call and looked at her. "A name band, cut off his wrist or his ankle found about a hundred yards from the body. Still, it's something to work on." He pointed at the food on the table. "Sorry, you're treat."

Robbie stood to leave and for one second he almost blurted out his question. Instead, he smiled at her and waved. Laura smiled as he walked away. In all these years, it was the first time he'd left her with a check. She thought for a moment about how she would enjoy teasing him about it.


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 32**

Robbie was in his office contemplating both the case and his inability to ask Laura on a date. At another time, he might have taken it as a sign that he wasn't ready. But the reality was, he simply didn't want the moment tarnished by a dead body or even conversations about a dead body. He wanted the moment to be singular, special.

His phone beeped, a text from Innocent requesting his presence. Grabbing his things, he walked to the door startled to meet Laura His stomach fluttered he was so happy to see her.

She stood, framed by the doorway. "I'm not going to make you a happy man."

Leaning against the door, he smiled down at her. "I'm always happy, my face is misleading."

"The assumed suicide."

He nodded, "Might just be murder."

"He was poisoned. A mixture of PCP, methanol and formaldehyde."

"Formaldehyde?"

She nodded, "Embalming fluid, combined with the alcohol and diazepam and there was some of it in his lungs."

Robbie motioned towards his shoulders, "Any sign of bruising to indicate he'd been held down."

Laura thought about it as she nodded. "Possibly but he's been face down on his desk all night and it's very difficult to find bruising through lividity." Robbie challenged her with a look, "Alright, I'll have another look."

He smiled at her, knowing she would do it as much for him as for the challenge. He took a step into her personal space, "I'll try not to pester you but if you could…"

She nodded, "Hurry it up?" She watched him as he stepped away from her. "Don't push it."

The challenging look in her eyes, almost made him laugh. He leaned in smiling and met her even gaze. Briefly he considered just asking her. But, he knew this wasn't the moment. Without another word, he walked away. Had he looked back, he would have seen a very satisfied smile on her face.

* * *

Robbie was talking through the points of the case with Jean when his mobile rang. Looking at the screen, he nodded at Innocent, "Hobson ma'am." Pushing the button, "Hi." He looked at Jean. "Excuse me ma'am." Jean nodded before taking last look at the board and walking away. "Yeah, right, why don't we try to meet halfway?"

* * *

Laura smiled when she saw Robbie walking toward her. Their earlier conversation playing through her head. Watching him, she was a bit concerned about how serious he looked. Then he spotted her, and a brilliant smile lit his face. It took everything in her not to break into a run. She needn't have bothered because he lengthened his stride easily to get to her sooner.

To hide her sudden nervousness, Laura started talking before she was all the way to him. "I found your ante mortem bruising on Dr. Whitby." She raised her hands and placed them on his shoulders to demonstrate. "Two areas of pressure on either side of the neck whilst he was sitting, probably too drunk to get up and fight them off because the bruising was pretty light."

Robbie stared down at her as her hands rested on his shoulders. She was gorgeous. As she finished giving him the explanation her hands lingered on his shoulder and their eyes met. He smiled to himself as she pulled back shyly realizing that she had been stroking his shoulders in public. If he'd needed any affirmation that she would say yes, this was it.

Before he could say anything, Laura pulled her hands and immediately filled the space with talk of the case "Final toxicology report, nothing new, same as before. Drunk, stomach awash with whisky and undigested pills." She looked up at him almost apologetically.

He motioned that they should walk. His thoughts returned to her earlier touch, almost a caress. It had been nice to have her touch him like that. He put his hands in his pockets before he pulled her into his arms. "Faulkner's into whisky."

Laura nodded, "As are a lot of people."

Robbie stopped walking and turned to her, "Faulkner said when his wife suddenly turned up, he said _not this stupid lost body thing again_." He started walking again. "But if she went off on the night of the party and she hadn't been in touch with anybody since why didn't she say to him what are you talking about?"

"Well you'd just told her her brother was dead."

"No, no, no, she knew. Her and her husband pretend to be at each others throats but actually their thick as thieves."

Laura shook her head, "Not if she ran off with Jack Cornish."

"Oh, I'd bet my pension she didn't. He wouldn't have anything to do with a woman like her."

They walked for a bit more when Laura asked, "You think it was him in that coffin don't you?"

"Well I hope not but I think he might have been about to uncover something, something big so the Faulkner's killed him."

Laura thought about that for a moment, "And Dr. Whitby? Think he was in on the murder?"

"I don't know yet. But I'm sure his murder links back to the Faulkner's too. Never mind, there's a lad that wants to tell me something and he's going to wrap up all of the answers for us nice and neat." Laura smiled as they continued walking.

They walked in companionable silence back to the station. When they reached where they would go separate ways, each paused, staring at the other. Suddenly there was an uncomfortableness between them. Knowing he had missed a moment, once again with talk of a body, Robbie simply shrugged and waved.


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

It had been a long day. Pushing the door to his flat open, his shoulders sagged as he closed it behind him.

"You look beat."

Dropping his things onto the table by the door, "I am."

"Any luck today?"

Pulling at his tie, he walked deeper into his flat. "No, this case is going nowhere fast and now I have a young lad in hospital because someone tried to kill him."

"How young, Robbie?"

He dropped onto the sofa, patting the cushion next him. "I guess not all that young, late teens, early twenties. But young enough."

"I'm sorry, love. Anything I can do to make it better?"

He shook his head, smiling at her. "You being you is enough."

"Any luck with Laura?"

Laughing loudly, he relaxed for the first time all day. "No."

"Did you not see her?"

"I saw her, several times in fact. But this damn case keeps getting in the way."

Tilting her head to the smile, she raised her eyebrows. "How did a case get in the way of asking her out?"

Collapsing into the sofa, he stared up at the ceiling. "I don't want to mix work and personal, it's macabre."

"Robbie, you mix work and personal all the time. It's part of what makes the two of you work."

He shrugged, "Maybe I don't want taint the start of our relationship with murder."

Val nodded, understanding him if not necessarily his reasoning. "Robbie, love, you're already in a relationship, of sorts. You're just…"

Looking over at her, he smiled "Just what, Val?"

"Acknowledging it. Turning a page, so to speak."

"Shouldn't that page be a fresh one, one not tinged by murder and mayhem?"

"Well, as her job is murder and mayhem and so is yours…"

He met her even gaze, "You're saying she won't care…"

"Not even a little bit." Nodding toward the bedroom, "Now get some rest, you have someone to ask out tomorrow."


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

The case wasn't going anywhere; an unsuccessful morning and nothing made sense. He needed to talk through the case. His options were DC Gray or Jean Innocent. Neither suited his needs, at the moment. He pulled out his mobile and sent the text. " _Care for a walk."_

The response came within minutes. " _Where should we meet?"_

He told her where then sat to wait. His mind wandered, slipping between the case and Laura. He still hadn't figured out how to ask her out. Should he plan something, let it come out in conversation. Val's words echoed in his mind, _turn a page_.

"I know that look." Startled he turned to her as she sat next to him, "You're at a loss on this case, aren't you?"

He shook his head, fighting a smile at how close to the truth she was. "Something like that."

"Do you want to take that walk, talk it through? "

He stood, offering his hand. She took his hand, standing fluidly then dropped his hand. He mourned the loss of her touch but started walking. They fell into step and he started telling her about the case. Laura sighed when he told her about the sad woman convinced she would adopt a baby. "She'll be lucky. A single woman, mid 40s, with a history of recent child bereavement."

"Yeah, wishful thinking."

Laura looked over at him. "She has an alibi for Matt Whitby's time of death?

He tucked his hand into his pocket. He wanted to take hers but she had both of them firmly tucked into her jeans. "Yeah, and no way really of getting hold of any embalming fluid."

"So back to square one, who's in the coffin?

"Who killed Matt Whitby?"

She countered his question with another. "Who tried to kill Liam James?"

"What does Jack Cornish got to do with any of this? Tell you one thing I could murder a curry."

"Is that an invitation Inspector?"

He looked over at her smiling face, this could be the moment. "Yes, it is."

She smiled. "And whose buying?"

He laughed, "My treat, Dr. Hobson."

They kept walking her hands in their pockets. Robbie realized where they were and realized he could at least tick a box before he took her to lunch.

"Hang on, have we got a minute to take a detour."

She looked up at him with a shy smile. "Is it the scenic route?"

He turned and started walking, confident she would follow. "Ruth Wilson, she lives on a boat down here. We've not been able to contact her all day so she doesn't know about Liam yet." Robbie climbed easily over the fence due to his height. When he turned to Laura he knew this was his chance. He reached out his hand and offered it to her.

Laura stared at his hand amused he was helping her over the fence but she willingly took it then easily scaled the fence. On the other side, before she could drop his hand, he tightened his grip on her hand.

Robbie steadied her as they walked down the small incline. He looked over his shoulder at her and thought how right this felt. He swung her around as they made it to the path and briefly let go of her hand only to reposition it to make walking together more comfortable. He smiled down to himself when she didn't pull away from him.

Laura looked down at their hands wondering how and why this was happening. She smiled with happiness, "We're out of step."

Robbie looked down at her, squeezing her hand. "That's a good sign that is." All either of them could do was smile. They both tightened their grips on the other and continued walking.

Their happiness was short-lived. Smoke was pluming from the windows of the houseboat they were walking toward. Robbie knew whose boat the flames were coming from and took off at a run. "Oh God."

Laura jogged along behind him pulling her mobile from her pocket. "Careful Robbie, there'll be gas bottles." She watched him run towards the boats as she dialed 999. She gave the details to the operator as she watched Robbie enter the boat. She took off at a run towards the boat as she waited.

She was breathless as she watched the door. Robbie had to be OK. Just as she was thinking about going in after him she saw him. He was carrying the still form of a young girl. A single tear fell down her cheek as she whispered a quiet prayer. "Oh thank God."

She ran to him to help him pull the girl to safety. Once they were a safe distance from the boat, she quickly checked the vitals of the young woman. She seemed well enough. Then she turned to Robbie. He had directed the fire brigade and was sitting quietly watching them.

She went to him checking him over. She looked at his hands and all exposed skin. There didn't seem to be any burns. She kept checking before he lightly touched her face. "Laura, I'm fine."

She looked at him, "Are you sure? Robbie I was so worried."

Smiling at her concern, he nodded, "I'm fine. I promise. I appreciate the concern though." She looked up at him. In that moment, he was lost in her eyes. "Laura, will you go to dinner with me?"

"What?"

"Dinner, like a date. You get dressed up, I get dressed up, small portions, fancy restaurant."

She blinked, confusion clouding her features, "You're asking me on a date?"

He nodded, softly touching her cheek. "Yes, if you want."

"And you didn't hit your head, or inhale too much smoke?"

"I wanted to ask you before I ran into the fire. I've wanted to ask you for three days."

A single tear fell down her cheek. "And why didn't you?"

"Murder, murders." At her confused look, he wiped away the tear. "I didn't want our beginning to be tied up in a case."

Covering his hand with hers, she smiled softly. "Robbie, our whole relationship has been tied up in cases. And since neither of us is going anywhere, it will continue to be."

"So, is that a yes or a no."

Turning her head, she lightly kissed the palm of his hand. "It's a yes, Robbie. Yes, I will go to dinner with you."


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36**

Laura was focused, head down, desperate to finish this one last report. She wanted to be out of the office early, wanted to have time to dress, make sure she looked her best. This report was all that stood in her way.

Her phone chimed, an alarm she had set many years before. Once a week, at exactly the same time, it sounded. It was a reminder to do something. Looking up from the report, she silenced the alarm. A smile she wasn't even aware of lit her face as she stood.

Quietly, she lifted the bottle she kept on her desk for just this task. She stood and moved to the small table across from her desk. Twisting the cap on the bottle, she tipped a small amount of water into the pot. Pausing for a moment, she watched the water soak into the soil.

One finger reached out lightly caressing a single waxy leaf. It had drawn her attention because at the end of the leaf was something new, something she hadn't seen in the four years she'd owned the plant. A single bud, the beginning of a bloom, had formed at the end of the leaf.

The smile she was unaware of broadened. It had taken four years but the moment she'd waited for was finally here. The report could wait, it would be there in the morning. Now it was time to start her life, to let a relationship bloom.

* * *

He'd stopped his car a block short of her house. He wasn't second guessing the date, he was just nervous. This was his last first date. The thought should scare him, a few months ago, even a few weeks ago it might have. But, now, it didn't. Shifting the car into gear, he made his way to her drive.

He parked and practically bounced out of his car making his way to her door. A single deep breath and then he knocked. She answered the door quickly, a shy smile lighting her face. "You're prompt."

He held out the flowers he'd purchased on the way over, "I couldn't be late. Not for something I've been this eager to do."

"Eager?"

He smiled as she took the flowers, "Yes, Laura, eager." A pretty blush crept across her cheeks, "Put the flowers in water, Laura. We don't want to be late for our reservation."

She nodded then turned to go back into her house. "Come in while I take care of these."

He watched her walk away, smiling to himself. She moved easily around her kitchen, humming to herself. He'd never actually heard her hum. He wondered if she was aware she was doing it. It made him smile, learning new things about her. The adventure of getting to know more.

She finished with the flowers then turned to Robbie. "Do we have time for a drink?"

He looked down at his watch, "Probably, but we can have a drink there before dinner."

Nodding, she placed the vase on her kitchen table. "Where are we going?"

"The Randolph."

Her eyes widened, "Nice."

"I said fancy."

"Yes, you did. Let me get my jacket."

* * *

They'd been quiet in the car, nerves finally getting the better of each of them. Robbie's hand found the small of her back as they entered the hotel. He guided her to the restaurant desperately searching for something to say.

They found seats at the bar and ordered drinks. While they waited, Laura broke the silence. "It was weird not seeing you today. How was your day?"

Robbie breathed a sigh of relief. With only the briefest of pauses, he launched into the story of his day and what he'd done to James.

Laura laughed as he regaled her with the story. "And he didn't tell you to get stuffed?"

Finally relaxing into the moment, he laughed with her. "Oh it was there in the subtext."

Robbie took a long drink as Laura stared at him. As relaxed as he suddenly felt, she seemed to be equally tense. He met her nervous gaze, almost holding his breath as she asked him a question. "Are you OK?"

He took another sip, tried to pretend he didn't know what she was asking. "Hmm. They gave me a once over at the hospital."

She shook her head, "No, not that Robbie." She took a deep breath and looked at him seriously. "You?"

He nodded and shrugged, wanted this moment to pass quickly. "Yeah, you know me. I'm always alright."

She tilted her head at him. "Would you tell me if you weren't?" He looked at her knowing she knew the answer to that. "If all of this funeral stuff were getting to you?"

He shook his head and answered as honestly as he could, "It's not."

Laura continued on not feeling the honesty in his words. "Reminding you of…" She stuttered not wanting to say it. "Val?" Robbie looked away for a moment and Laura was heartbroken. "It doesn't seem to get any easier does it?"

"Well that's it. It does." Laura looked up at him trying to mask the hopeful look on her face. "I was stood outside the crem the other day watching that poor family in pieces waiting for the pain." He shrugged. "Val's slipping away."

Laura took a deep breath and shook her head. "Time's passing, there's nothing you can do about that. It doesn't mean that you can't…"

He touched her arm, needed her to know he was OK. "Yeah, I know. At first it felt like a betrayal but no…" He shook his head. "I'm just turning over the page on a new chapter."

Laura smiled, one he wasn't familiar with. It made his heart race. "Right."

All of the nervousness disappeared, no further words seemed necessary. He reached out and took her hand as if it was the most natural thing in the world.


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37**

Dinner was a comfortable, effortless affair. Neither of them noticed the luxury of their surroundings. Each was completely focused on the other. They only had eyes for each other. Laughter flowed from each of them easily.

Robbie reached for his glass, "Laura, can I talk you into dessert?"

Smiling at him over her glass, she bit her lower lip. "You can talk me into anything, Robbie."

His eyes twinkled, wondering to himself if she was even aware of the double meaning of what she'd said. "Is that a yes or a no to dessert?"

A blush spread across her cheeks, the meaning of her words finally dawning on her. Her nostrils flared, her breathing sped up, "Only if you're willing to share with me."

* * *

They strolled hand in hand through the city. An easy silence settled between them. "I'm glad you talked me into dessert."

He smiled down at her, "It was with the promise that we would share."

"You had some."

Robbie stopped walking, pulled her closer to him. "Two bites, Laura, I got two bites."

"They were very big bites." He raised his eyebrow at her. "I guess we will just have to do this again sometime."

"On one condition." At her eager expression, he continued. "I get my own dessert."

She stepped closer to him, her hand pulled gently on his tie. "On one condition." He nodded down at her. Pushing up on her toes, she pulled on his tie. Her other hand rested against his chest, steadying herself.

Her lips parted, he heard her draw in a breath as if she was preparing to tell him her one condition. Lost in the moment, he didn't give her the chance to tell him her condition. He kissed her, softly, tenderly. His pulse quickened when he heard her sigh into the kiss.

One hand went to her waist, steadying her against him. The other hand cupped her cheek gently, his thumb stroking tenderly. Her arms wrapped around him, her body molding into his. They stood on the sidewalk, kissing, oblivious to anything else in the world.

By unspoken agreement, they ended the kiss. He pressed his forehead into hers, each slightly breathless. After a few minutes, Robbie smiled softly, "What was your condition?" Nuzzling into him, she laughed to herself, "What's so funny, Laura?"

Smiling up at him, "My condition was only if you kiss me."

"And if I kiss you again, do I get two desserts?"


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38**

He stared at the ceiling, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. His thoughts returned to the night before. The whole evening had been as easy as turning a page. Whether it was because he was ready or because she was the right person he didn't know. And, he didn't care what the reason was. The only important thing was that he'd turned the page.

* * *

She stared at the ceiling, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. All thoughts were of the night before. She hadn't expected anything like what happened when he'd asked her to dinner. The evening had exceeded all of her expectations.

* * *

He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this excited. Throwing the covers to the side, he hopped out of bed, ready to start his day. He whistled as he went about his morning routine. The only thing on his mind was figuring out an excuse he could use to see her this morning.

* * *

Throwing aside the covers, she almost leapt from the bed. Her mind already actively thinking of how she could see him today. He couldn't remember the last time she'd been this excited.

* * *

On the drive to the office, the idea came to him. A simple cup of coffee and conversation about the case, it had worked throughout their relationship, no need to reinvent the wheel. He'd stopped at her favorite coffee place, ordered her favorite coffee, then steered easily to her office.

He wandered the halls in search of her unsurprised when he found her in the procedure room. Watching her through the window, he smiled to himself. She was the most patient person he knew. Even when she lost patience with him, he always knew she still cared.

He knocked on the window and held up the two coffee cups. She turned to him with a serious face but still managed to give him a flirty look. Excusing herself, she joined him in the hallway. He handed her the cup and she thanked him before leaning against the wall. Painfully aware there were many ears around them, she kept to the case, "Heartless attacking two kids, eh?"

Robbie took a half step closer just wanting to be nearer to her and understanding her comment. "Well I can't see who'd want to. Nice kids too, hard-working lad, do anything to earn a…" Robbie paused thinking for a moment.

Laura looked up at him expectantly. "Should I be getting on with something?"

"Repatriation. Miller brings bodies back from abroad. Ex-pats, people who've died on their holidays…" Robbie reached into his pocket for his ringing mobile. "Oh, just in time, Hathaway. Morning Sargent."

"Do you know how hard it is reading road signs in Serbo-Croat?"

"I had a weekend in Wales once."

"Amusing sir. I popped into the police station."

"Any of them speak English?"

James nodded. "Yeah better than I speak Serbo-Croat fortunately. They came out straight away. They've been watching this place for months looking for an excuse."

Robbie handed his cup to Laura. "Here I'm going to put you on loud speaker." Robbie pressed the button and held the phone between him and Laura. "Laura Hobson's here so mind your language."

James sighed. "Morning."

Laura smiled at the phone. "Hello James, are you having a good time?"

Robbie interrupted. "Yeah, can we do all of that when he gets back?"

Laura smirked at him. James butted into their conversation. "Crystal meth sir. The farmhouse is a crystal meth factory."

Robbie took a deep breath. "Well, well, no wonder the Faulkner's have such big fat bank balances."

"Well they are shipping stuff all over Europe."

"So where's Cornish now? Rotting in some Serbo-Croat cell?"

"Vanished. Ten minutes after he saw me probably."

"I'll make sure we put a watch on all of the airports and ferries." Robbie could hear James smoking through the phone. "You ever try one of these electronic cigarettes?" Laura closed her eyes and shook her head."

"Sorry?"

"Help you give up the habit. You ever tried one?"

James shook his head. "No."

"Well you should."

James pulled the phone away from his head and stared at it then threw away his cigarette. Robbie ended the call then looked at Laura. "How much crystal meth do you reckon you could hide in a coffin?"

Laura smiled at him. "Probably quite a lot."

He frowned, "Sorry to cut our time short…"

Nodding her head, "Duty calls. Go on, go be brilliant."

Looking around and not seeing anyone, he risked reaching out, pushed a lock of hair off her forehead. "Meet me later, take a walk?"

Biting her lower lip, she nodded. "Let me know when and where."


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 38**

He was humming as he opened the door. She watched him wondering if he was even aware he was doing it.

As he went about his evening routine, he never once looked around for her. The thought of appearing to him flitted through her mind but she worried about what expression would cross his face. Without trying, she could picture at least three of them.

Surprise was the first. Whether it was a good surprise or not, she was no longer sure. A small piece of her wondered if he was ready for her to leave.

The next was guilt. Guilt about having a good time with someone else. Guilt about moving on. Would it set him back?

Finally, relief. Relieved she was there so he didn't need to move on.

As each micro expression played on a loop through her mind, she was frozen. Which expression would be the worst?

"It's time to go, Val. You've stayed too long"

Without looking back, she shook her head, wiping a single tear from her cheek. "Not yet, just a bit longer."

"You're holding him back and hurting yourself. It's time to let go."

"I'm not ready."

He placed his hand on her shoulder, "But he is. It's time."

"Three more days. Just long enough to make sure he doesn't take a step back. Please."

Squeezing her shoulder, he nodded. "Three more days, but not a minute longer."

"Thank you."

"Val, he's ready. It's what you came for, don't linger and hold you both back."

* * *

She watched him dress. The whistling had returned, a small smile played at the edges of his lips.

Throughout the night, she'd watched him sleep. A raging debate fluttering through her mind. In the early morning hours, she'd finally decided.

"How's the case?"

He smiled at her in the mirror, "Lots of details, none that really make sense. But, I'll get there."

"You always do." She tapped her throat, "Your tie's crooked."

Taking a quick second to straighten the offending tie, he winked at her. "Thanks! I've got to go. Criminals to catch."

"Happy to help." She watched him walk away, whistling to himself.

He paused at the door; but didn't look back. His hand gripped the doorknob gently. "Thanks, Val."

"You already thanked me for the tie."

"Not the tie, the advice. You were right, I didn't need a special moment to ask her."

Before she could respond, he opened the door and left.


End file.
